How many people do you know,
That go home and write a sucide note?
Who hope that one day they can take their own lives,
Who everyday have to live a lie,
Who know deep inside that they have to die,
Who wonder what it’s like on the other side.
How can you tell what goes on in their heads,
When they face the fact that they want to be dead?
Can you hear their clock tick in knowing peace?
Can you feel the dead heart and the luke-warm heat?
Do you know why their friends won’t admit defeat,
When they find their friend in a crumpled up heap?
How can you say you played no part,
When all this time you never even gave them a start?
They try not remember everything you say,
And lay in bed every night, dreading to replay
What mean things you whispered during the day.
And now you can’t even ask them to stay.
I'm not the best at grammer so please help me out here
