I sit here on the street corner with debts forseen.

My own life taken, and where were my dreams?

I try to fight the thoughts of unrelinquished soughts.

I look to where I should be or where I ought not.

My future in a stand still waiting for my body to convey around the belt.

Have I killed myself with kindness.

Or have I looked not upon you with my blindness.

I just want that life, love, understanding and money.

One dollar for the bad wishes.

Suicide for the taking.

Two dollars for the man faking.

Suicide for the making.

Three dollars for my dread besaken.

Suicide for the raking.

Four dollars for the sex you have taken.

Suicide for the staking.

Suicide Anyone?