Straight Suicide - 1969

All jokes left aside, this shit make me cry, like why
Selfish, no byes, just BLAM, I'm gone, no phone, home, to mom
Just 357 to the dome, revolver around you, Pow
In your mouth, guess you got your feelings out
Thoughts rang loud, pillow down, slow mo' feathers touch ground
As you laid down fresh death, last breath
Guess you ain't cleaning up your mess
You left behind in your wake, in my dreams I hope you're fine
But I'm like nine, no eight, today
That makes it July, seven, nineteen eighty seven
My mind young, hell or heavens gate, I had no clue
Just the spew sympathetic gathering Christians told you
I guess you're screwed

Enough about you, what about your mamma
What you put her through, was life so Brillow
Worth the drama? no tuck me in, no tickle me in my favorite pajama
Fickle slaughter, not like I needed a big brother
It's not like I needed a big brother

Rewind, last time I saw you alive, I asked you to play
You seemed fine, I said "I'll meet you outside" sandbox
I heard no POPS, after your friends came in, more pretend
They looked terrified, wouldn't let me in
I'm like, "what happened?"
They wept, I went to fetch ya, floated down the stairs in stretcher
You know how it feels when someone won't let you say that last good-bye?
You can't stop me, I pulled the sheet, I pulled the sheet
One eye open like a wink, still hoping
My first unhappy ending, this ain't Bambi
And I'm just a kid, I kiss the dead

And my sister is next