Send my love to the one who makes my meals
Tell him to spit in the one he gives my father
Tell him to check the corners of the tray
For my suicide notes
I think it’s gay to leave a note
Why satisfy their curiosity?
The cleaner will find it later
Maybe after the scream
I don’t mean to be impolite
I just can’t make it tonight
Neither can I to the living room.
Don’t worry I’ll be quiet
Quick as a slap too
Then you’ll see my last grin plastered on face.
That’s me having fun spinning with the devil.
I won’t be bloody
I’ll be hot as hell
Maybe cold on the body
But my spirit is in hell.
I love you big black book
You’re my best friend,