When you died I was only two
And the memories I had of you
They were only a few.
The day you died all I
Is that all day I just sat and cried.
Well you're not in my life anymore,
So no more fun,
But it's sad that it was my dad
That ended your life than his with a gun.
I don't know if I'm mad or if I'm just
But whatever it is,
It's building up inside of me.
Somehow I need to set it free.
No one understands me.
I don't know what to do to make them see.
What's wrong with me?
Is it that I held all these
Feelings inside me for fifteen years
And just on this single day I
Gave way for all my cries and tears?
Or is it that I grew up without
A mother and
Instead was raised up by my brother?
I'm confused, I'm about to blow a fuse.
What am I going to do?
Would my life have been better if you were still
Alive – or at least until I was five
Because I would have known you more?
But I should just stop thinking
That because when I go to my
House and open my door you're not
There, just your spirit drifting
In the air above me.
Well, anyways, maybe it was fate.
Maybe you're better off up there,
But all I can say is that
Life isn't fair.