G.35

I tell myself I'm lucky to be alive, I wish I wasn't born, would it matter if I said goodbye, let me parish, be thought of as a thorn.. I'm poking at the right nerves, cuz the wrong ones quick to scorn, a smoke screen and a slight curve, this might be just the norm.. Should you wrap your head around the storm, the calm has pass I've sought a road less torn.. Each day I thank my past, for now I'm on to a life reborn..