Why do I live this life, I don’t know.
Always trapped in this endless hell.
Why do I go on, why do I try?
WHen it’s just as easy to roll over and die.
Death is the last great adventure.
An undiscovered country with endless possibilities.
But yet still I am stuck in this reality.
Just waiting.
Just waiting for death’s hand to come and grasp me.
Time waits for no man and death comes to all.
This I know.
But yet why wait?
If I slit my wrists or put a hole through my brain
the end result would still be surely the same.
For to live is to die, slowly.
But will I be in heaven
or somewhere in between?
We live, we die, but death not ends it?
Gary Farlow
