6 Juni 2011...

Jag vet inte vad kärringen snackar om...
Men jag mår inte bra...
My legs are dangling off the edge
The bottom of a bottle is my only friend
I think I'll slit my wrists again and I'm
Gone, gone, gone, gone
My legs are dangling off the edge
A stomach full of pills didn't work again
I'll put a bullet in my head and I'm
Gone, gone, gone, gone

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