livin’ on the edge, sittin’ on the ledge
vision is a mess, you are givin’ in to stress
daily you day dream, envisionin’ your death
you are not scared of jail, only prison is your flesh
you had the world, but you chose to settle
did drugs to increase serotonin levels
put up a wall made out of stone and metal
now you think that you personally know the devil
he is not what the bible says, "clutchin’ a pitch fork"
he’s energy makin’ you think there’s nothin’ to live for
got a couple skeletons locked in your closet
you lose it and punch walls, to stop them from talkin’
you hide it, but i bet you’re rotten to the core
it’s obvious that death is knockin’ at your door
should you drown to death, or somebody push you down some steps
or you put a noose around your neck
try to describe every night, wit’ clever thoughts
your wife doesn’t know the last time you let her talk
jump off of the ledge, you’ll likely never walk
i hate to say it but .. you might be better off ..