Un poème par ce que je suis bourré et triste mais je me sens bien. 

And if you come to this,
What would make you happy ?
And if you bring it all,
What would make you sorry ?
And if you save the world,
Would that make you happy ?
You can't feel at all,
That's why, it makes me sappy.
And never say goodbye,
And go, make you happy.
I never felt alone,
And go, away and gone.
You better cut yourself,
To make you sappy,
You better kill yourself,
If it makes you happy.

Go ahead and self-destroy,
Go ahead, go away, got to get away,
I don't feel any joy,
Put that shit away, away, away, but there is no way.
None.
Everything's gone.
I am rotten to the bone,
I can go ahead and overdose.
Go ahead, another dose.
So close, so incline, go away.
I am so happy, one more day,
To feel that it is over.
So young, yet older.
There is no coming back now.
No wound, yet blood's bleeding,
All over me, now,
Wait 'til it is over,
It is already.