Sometimes I feel like putting a bullet right through my brain,   but does she know that she's the only reason I don't?   Hands touch, my words are not the same, but somehow she keeps me sane.   I'm a disappointment, but I mean the world to her.      I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.      Hands touch, the warmth comes from within.   Feels like she's swallowed my sins,   and she makes me want to believe in God again.   Hands touch, my words are not the same, but somehow she keeps me sane.   I'm a disappointment, but I mean the world to her.         I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.   I want to die.      And I never want to see another Monday again.