Sitting in a chair with a gun to head.
Others cry and ask the question \'why\'.
I\'m not even scared to take this bullet.
I only smile for i am to die.
Even you, the shooter, seems astonished.
My mother yells at me to try and run.
Why would a pretty girl want to be demolished?
Others brains are splattered on the wall, oh what fun.
I hear you cock the weapon, and hesitate.
You were so quick with the others, why not me?
You look down in my face, holding my fate.
\'Do you want to die?\' you ask and start to cry.
I look at you with blank expression.
Pull the trigger and end my depression.