Suicide Letters

from by David Johnson

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lyrics

It's that kind of sadness
That grows deeper every second
If you're not hell-bent and vigilant
It'll swallow you whole in a minute

Before you know it you're composing suicide letters
In the darkest corner of your mind
Don't say the words aloud
'Cause after that it's just a matter of the ink in a pen
Fleshin' these fantasies out

It's that kind of sadness
That you feel compelled to keep to yourself
Like if you told anyone else
They'd stuff you with pills and say,
"Here, man. These should help."

Before you know it you're composing suicide letters
In the darkest corner of your mind
Don't say the words aloud
'Cause after that it's just a matter of the ink in a pen
Fleshin' these fantasies out
He's out, he's out, he's out of time.

credits

from Let Love Abound, released September 16, 2016

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David Johnson Seattle, Washington

singer-songwriter
alternative folk

booking: davidjohnsonbooking@live.com

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