Butterfly die with me. Skull in silver decoration. Leave this glass in my toe, a symbol of my depression. And now it's pouring red from my smile, laughs from my veins, I've left emptied before you. And I can't find anything to say, why you hung yourself before me. I don't think I'm coming home. I made a mess of my bones Something in my head gone wrong. Pistol buried deep and cold. You look so sad for me, a little taste of my frustration. And as you scrape me from the floor, there ain't no more confusion About the way I feel, bite my tongue, eternity. Dark runs so red the ocean. Cracks your mind, turning to clay. Lead snake slow in the river. I don't think I'm coming home. I made a mess of my bones. Something in my head gone wrong. Pistol buried, now I hold not a thing.