Here I sit, in my chair,
A bunch of crap in my hair.
I wish I hadn't partied all night,
If I'd stayed home i'd be all right.
But now I lie here all alone,
Sitting in the dark with a big black phone,
Listening to the bluesy tone of
A crap ska band with a saxophone.
I start to think about the past
And wonder how I could have made it last
But I realize what's done is done
So I close my eyes and I load the gun.
Hold it up near my head,
Wondering if I'll soon be dead -
Pull the trigger, hear a click,
I guess I'm lucky - now it's your turn, prick.
Load the bullet, spin spin spin,
Aim at head and repent for sins.
Ready gang? You take a breath,
You hear a bang... The rest is death.