In Search Of 1988 - Ozma

Another morning still in bed, so many thoughts run through my head

Self-motivating not to be

I stayed up late the night before, to contimplate and self absorb

There is no answer i can see

Knowing my life sucks to me

Yesterday i wrote another goodbye note

I took a razor and i tried to cut my throat

But i missed a dull blade one of my first signs

I found a plastic bag to wrap around my head

It was a little small i killed the cat instead

That little bastard’s suppose to live another 8 more times

What’s wrong with my mind

Prozac for the way you feel, makes your body so sureal

Having one with wine is just the trick

Took a lighter to a can of raid, drinking drain-o lemonaide

And all it did was make me really sick

But i don’t care, my whole damn life seems so unfair

Do you know what might be wrong with me

Here in my own hell, they say that i don’t look so well

Do you know how lonely it can be

Knowing my life sucks to me

Today i’m feeling down, like most of the time

I called another dam suicide hot line

And the girl on the phone didn’t really care

I said i’d end my life, but it always falls apart

I couldn’t get my brand new car to start

The disappointments more than i can bare

Opened up the oven door, laid down on the kitchen floor

And only burned my elbows on the rack

Jumped out of a flying plane, you’d think that i might be insane

But i forgot my chute was on my back

I tied a knot and pulled it through, and broke the ceiling fan in two

It only made me dizzy for a bit

Now i’m burried underground, and everyone just stands around my

Grave stone with the caption «idiot»