Thursday, August 10, 2006

Doctor.....cure thyself

Isn't it time for you

To stick a gun in your mouth
Or at least jump off a roof
There must be some way for you
To get a glimpse at the truth

Perhaps a shotgun
Put firmly under the chin
Would give you access to
Curt Corbain's last grin

Maybe some sleeping tablets
And a bottle of old rye
Anything to get you out of
This life you live as a lie

Maybe a hot shot of heroin
You could go as a rock star
Anything at all to get beyond
Who you sadly pathetically are

How about a razor blade
And a slash across the wrists
In a tub of hot water
And a suicide note that insists

That you are not an idiot
A worthless doctor a hack
Who isn't merely mistaken
But actually doesn't know jack

9:18 pm
transcribed this time
9:22 pm


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