Slit wrists don't point blame,
At a lack of success nor fame.
You can't blame rock 'n roll,
For rotting these wilted souls.
Kids packing guns in the hall,
Don't blame music and alcohol.
Children don't lose their hope,
In fast cars and smoking dope.
Bloody floors can never explain,
Suicides only meant to end pain.
Here I am strangling on my pity,
Should I justify blaming only me,
For the boy sitting here crying?
I learned you weren't even trying.
You choked hopes and dreams away,
Showing hate you can't even say.
I'm losing touch as I turn blue,
The only air I can gasp is you.
I would blame those I lean on,
But who listens once I am gone?
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