Swimming In My Own Blood.
The Story of Kurt Cobain's Fatal Suicide...
When I am dead, and over me bright April Shakes out her rain
drenched hair, Tho you should lean above me broken hearted, I
shall not care. For I shall have peace. As leafey trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough. And I shall be more silent and
cold hearted Than you are now.
.
Harsh words & violent blows
Hidden secrets nobody knows
Eyes are open, hands are fisted
Deep inside I'm warped & twisted
So many tricks & so many lies
Too many whens & too many whys
Nobody's special, nobody's gifted
I'm just me, warped & twisted
Sleeping awake & choking on a dream
Listening loudly to a silent scream
Call my mind, the number's unlisted
Lost in someone so warped & twisted
On my knees, alive but dead
Look at the invisible blood I've bled
I'm not gone, my mind has drifted
Don't expect much, I'm warped & twisted
Burnt out, wasted, empty, & hollow
Today's just yesterday's tomorrow
The sun died out, the ashes sifted
I'm still here, warped & twisted...
.
.
Gripping a scattergun, tied from my palm straight to my chin,
a life long dream gone, vanished, nothing left from deep within
Born a monster, though my position went well with the scene,
a freak accident, no fuck it, I was hatched a psycho to begin!
Patched myself up when I got in brawls, shot up with meth when duty called,
to relieve the stress I drank, that was soon to be a reason why this death was my fault
trapped in a deranged realm, no one can ever describe
where pain overwhelms, lifes hard-pressed to survive
possessed with lies, depressed i cry tears of doubt
suppressed by my eyes, empty echoes, no one hears you shout
all life is about to collapse, happiness turns to pain
perhaps never feelin its warmth again, memories burn your brain
crazy or sane? my consciousness is encaged by steel
a manufactured illusion, yet my body is made to feel
and its all too real, suffering slowly erodes my sanity
fall to a kneel, comforting words explode to profanity
how can it be, i kept it innocent, avoiding all crime
betrayed by my thoughts, my content destroyed in time
devoid of any signs, hope created just to taunt my existence
swallowed by dark, followed my heart, never thought to resist it
troubled from the start, but could never ask for assistance
so the feelings of hate and confinement contiually persisted
until i believed it was true, my soul caught and contained
never thought or complained, but it cant be bought or regained
someone ought to explain what to do, life isn't a game
i lost myself, mind caved through...ended it with a shot to the brain
.
i was detained in a world that was created from dreams
where pain would curl around any reflecton that gleamed
every breath taken it seemed always deflated with screams
and the only form of help offered, was just outdated regimes
its far more extreme, madness had infected my cognition
never to be free again, my sanity had selected ignition
death infested my vision, if only you saw it through my eyes
my mind was a prision...... and the only escape was suicide
.
.
.
.
Sickly and bronchiatic as a child, lead singer of Nirvana
as an adult. Kurt Cobain's body was found by an electrician
visiting his home to install a security system. When no one
answered the front door, he peered through windows. The electrician
thought he saw a mannequin sprawled on the floor, until he
observed a patch of blood by the figure's ear. When police
broke down the door, they found Cobain dead: the shotgun still
pointed at his chin, and a suicide note written in red ink
resting on a nearby counter.
