I carve out my heart just to look at it
I guess that it really was there
I’m blacking out from the lack of it
I wonder who’s bound to care
Mother? Father? Of course, no doubt.
Sister and brother will bawl and shout.
I fall back on the linoleum
As puddles of red spread around
St. Peter regards what a fool I am
And sends me flaming on down
Devil! Devil! I figured we’d meet
Are you really as bad as they say on the street?
He figures out just the right punishment
For a boy who murders himself
A sick, yet appropriate judgment
A personal, customized hell
I wake up on the linoleum floor
It seems I am damned to live some more.
