Desperate Cry for Help 043

I feel ill. I'm all green and blue and yuck.
I look like shit and I'm all fucked up.

Yippee

This is what life is all about

You bastards keep on sticking these needles and giving me pills

And now I'm some zombie-shuffling chemically-enhanced bastard for you

And maybe there's a cure, or perhaps I should just do the graceful thing and die, who knows, it might make a change.

Black and black and black forever

Unchanging, unmorphing

I would become perfectly predictable, all for you

Just rotting here, stinking, doing my best, to be bloated with gas, a new wave methane corpse for the people

It's not that I mind the whole death thing

I just would rather you do it for me instead