Sometimes life is too hard
I guess that is why I write
Otherwise I would give up
And I would loose the fight
I struggle with what I say
Trying to say the honest truth
But this man is not perfect
I hide things under my roof
I have done things wrong in the past
Done things that make me ashamed
I have suffered penance for my crimes
No innocence have I claimed
Sometimes I feel like "fuck, I hate myself"
I get fed up feeling the anger this way
I look in the mirror and hate my reflection
My emotions feel like nothing but clay
This job, it feels so terrible at times
Having to do the things I must do
Taking the deceased to the morgue
And wondering what life they went through
They end up as rows of five, in a fridge
Is that anyway to show them respect?
Laying there, waiting for the post mortum
Life can be a horrible time for suspect
But me, I wish I could hide from my nightmare
Forever burning, forever feeling that fucking pain
That is when I feel life is pissing down on me
I try, but I never seem to escape from the strain
And then I see the news, I see the terror in our world
An earth quake killing thousands, what did they do?
Can you imagine, one minute your life is safe
Then destiny shows you it can be so bloody cruel
Thank you for reading these words, and listening me rant
Sometimes I have to let the rage out, to release it
If not for you reading this, I would feel so alone
I have someone who loves me, and that helps me never to quit
copyright Chris Smith 2010
I guess that is why I write
Otherwise I would give up
And I would loose the fight
I struggle with what I say
Trying to say the honest truth
But this man is not perfect
I hide things under my roof
I have done things wrong in the past
Done things that make me ashamed
I have suffered penance for my crimes
No innocence have I claimed
Sometimes I feel like "fuck, I hate myself"
I get fed up feeling the anger this way
I look in the mirror and hate my reflection
My emotions feel like nothing but clay
This job, it feels so terrible at times
Having to do the things I must do
Taking the deceased to the morgue
And wondering what life they went through
They end up as rows of five, in a fridge
Is that anyway to show them respect?
Laying there, waiting for the post mortum
Life can be a horrible time for suspect
But me, I wish I could hide from my nightmare
Forever burning, forever feeling that fucking pain
That is when I feel life is pissing down on me
I try, but I never seem to escape from the strain
And then I see the news, I see the terror in our world
An earth quake killing thousands, what did they do?
Can you imagine, one minute your life is safe
Then destiny shows you it can be so bloody cruel
Thank you for reading these words, and listening me rant
Sometimes I have to let the rage out, to release it
If not for you reading this, I would feel so alone
I have someone who loves me, and that helps me never to quit
copyright Chris Smith 2010
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