I truly am dead.
All of my fans,
Will lie me in my death bed.
For tonight, I committed my own death,
My eyes shut, everything is black,
No life inside of me, not a single breath.
How come, it was I who got the sack.
If only they knew,
Only if they had seen.
They didn't know what I could do.
They may of stopped me from fleeing,
But now I'm all cold.
Deep underground the ground,
Lying there growing mold.
Never to be found.
It was about 12 when I was writing this in bed

