For What is Life?
Her screams in the night
are what makes me cry
as I hold my head down
and I let my face lie.
Is it rage or anguish,
guilt or misery?
that that flow through my veins
and become a part of me?
The neighbours can hear,
should I be ashamed?
Is it her or is it I
that ought to be blamed?
She is all I have,
all I have is she.
But she takes my heart
and throws it with glee.
Every night I cry in my bed
and wish for death to come for me instead.
For what is life but nothing at all?
compared to the sweet slumber of that heavenly fall?
are what makes me cry
as I hold my head down
and I let my face lie.
Is it rage or anguish,
guilt or misery?
that that flow through my veins
and become a part of me?
The neighbours can hear,
should I be ashamed?
Is it her or is it I
that ought to be blamed?
She is all I have,
all I have is she.
But she takes my heart
and throws it with glee.
Every night I cry in my bed
and wish for death to come for me instead.
For what is life but nothing at all?
compared to the sweet slumber of that heavenly fall?