What a long road Iíve walked, and Iím only twenty-seven
This life is so tiring, itís no wonder that men invented Heaven
Itís about time I found that rest, that joy, that peace
Itís about time that the struggles finally start to cease
I canít imagine being older
I already feel a little colder
I canít imagine being more tired
I canít imagine feeling less wired
How much longer before it all winds down?
How much longer before Iím underground?
Give me that rest
I gave you my best
I know Iím only twenty-seven
But already, Iím ready for Heaven
Note on original manuscript: “Not suicidal, just tired.”