To be dead would make everything seem so silly, wouldn’t it?
To be dead would be to know no cares, wouldn’t it?
Suddenly nothing would matter—
Didn’t pay my bill? Oh well.
Didn’t report to work? So sorry.
Didn’t always do the right and responsible thing even though it never pays a millionth of a penny in the end? My bad.
None of this amounts to anything.
To be dead would be to be free.
I’ve done it before,
And one day, I’ll do it again.
Come right on back down?
Only if it’s my shaman hermit cave again, where people leave me alone,
or at least have respect.
Guess I am mostly human after all.