This is a poem about a boy named Seth
He knew how to die, so he didn't fear Death.
He took his little razor and he slashed his little wrists,
He tried to hit a vein, but he fainted so he missed.
The next day he tried again and put a bullet in his head,
Now he's in the hospital, getting stablized instead.
So he took a bit of rope and tied it 'round his neck,
He didn't see that it was frayed, he really should have checked.
He got it in his mind about jumping off a ledge,
Until someone grabbed his collar, he was two feet from the edge.
He could have been a pyro for matches he did try,
Every single one went out, Fate just wouldn't let him die.
Today he's got some poison mixed with vodka in his cup,
With nothing more to do he may as well drink up.
He kept right on at it, getting closer with each blunder,
Finally it worked this time, now he's six feet under.
This was a poem about a boy named Seth
He knew how to die, so he didn't fear Death.
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The Road To Nowhere
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