At the Throne in which I give my last plea.
To die an honourable death, got shot during a shooting spree.
To feed is to want, I cut off my tongue.
So cold from within, I'm not about having fun.
To continue down this path, I'll glady accept my fate.
Not willing to be with the (one), no more going on dates.
At stake is the World, I wish for one thing.
To die in the Pit and continue to feel pain.
As I say this for myself, "There is nothing to gain!"
Not willing to rise, don't give a hell about fame.
To know is to feel, this is my last hope.
To go to the back of the bus, not the upfront.
A front, a being, I hate to the core.
Not willing to be sandwiched, like a marshmellow smore.
Four score, it's my right, my wish is to be hung.
By the skin of my teeth, God then won.
Strenuous, it hurts, I have no more faith.
Tired of having to keep baking the cake.
The ice in my veins will melt at the peak.
A lonely death is the only thing I seek.