The thrill

The slow decline into depression has tightend its grip on me

ive tried to fight but can't break free

twisting and turning as it tears me down

I'm all alone

I'm the loneliest clown

 

theres nothing left

barely a shirt on my back

nothing to look forward to

A future's what I lack

 

now I know that day is almost here

i can taste it in the air

the ends growing near

 

And so when I leave

and I know I will

always remember

when I gave a thrill

 

dont remember

the man who wrote the peom

because that's not me

soon he'll be going

 

And now I must go

so I'll bid you farewell

 

But as always

I'll leave you smiling

i hope there's no