No one cuts off my life,
without my consent,
you tear me from my world,
now I am wretched and bent.
You think I am your puppet,
you do not even care-not worth a dime,
in your eyes I am worth nothing,
just the day of my dying.
I will pay for the things I do,
do not dare force them upon me,
my stress is high,
sometimes I wish I could die.
Of course-that would be great,
the day of my dying,
you would not have to worry about being straight,
just pass into that unknown gate of what others hate.
Copyright 2002. All Rights Reserved.
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