I dreamt about the way I’m gonna die, I dreamt about the way I wanna lie. In the grave, I lay and cry so sober, In the winter right through to November*. In my soul, as the pain bleaches, As my heart aches, shakes off the leeches. A war compromises within the lines, Reason to believe to get high on the wines. Self indulgence, just another hole in the ground, A tale of love and life dug in a mound. Another suicidal dream, amongst them all, Another reason to let me go and fall. I dream about the falling of the earth, I woke up and found myself sinking in the surf. I hang myself, in the only noose, Nothing else, to put myself to use. Suicide the new found trend, Only looking for the real and not the pretend. Suicidal thoughts and slits on the wrists, Proudly bleeding to the end, to seal it with a kiss. It’s over now, take what you need, Just a hole in the ground, take it and bleed. I am worthless, just a corpse in the dirt, Say whatever, because I cannot feel the hurt. * where i am november is summer.