Winning Is a Loser's Game
Till death do us part.
Rope around my neck coming with me to every dead end.
Seeing what I do next.
Rope around my neck pulling in tighter the more I fix myself.
You can’t fix a death sentence.
Gun against my head telling me don’t let the rope win.
I repair myself the rope tightens the gun pushes harder into my skull.
The more I try the more I die.
Winning is a losing game.
Running towards the end please set me free the rope lets go but the gun kills me.
Darkness sets in and people cry but how are you going to feel bad when you already said goodbye.
Killed by a gun but murdered by yourself.
What are you going to do when there’s no one else?
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