Yeah, this one's to you,
The girl with the gun to her head.
I can't figure out if
You're the spirit of this age
Or just another failed lifeline.
One thing's for sure:
You're the modern-day Mary Magdalene,
From conspiracy theories to fallen grace.
If your life is really only sort of bad,
Then why are you so tempted to end it
While others just grin and keep on living?
But yeah, you can't tell anyone,
Not a single soul, your secrets,
Which brings to mind the possibility
That you don't fucking know what's wrong
And that's the way it goes.
You're just leading your people,
The wretchedly blessed, blinded seers,
To an end of suicidal grace.
If suicide has become the only escape
From transitory depression,
Then Satan must be pissing his pants in laughter.