What do you call it
When another forces your hand?
And what will they say
When they find me here this way?
And know, know, know, know
That it wasn't my idea
No it wasn't my idea
But, oh, just to see your face
When you find me here like this

Now there's no time for wondering
Darkness is now at my door
Rapping with his bony fingers
He's come to take me home
He'll envelop me in sleep
Wrapped in black feathered wings
But before we fly
Here's my goodbye

I get the last word
I'll have the last laugh
Sure as the room is growing cold
I'll have the last word
I'll have the last laugh
Sure as my blood is running cold

They won't call it suicide
'Cause I've got the killer's name
Engraved so deeply in my veins
They will call it homicide
'Cause I've got your name
So clearly carved into my wrist

The weak and the lame
Will find their way to escape
But why should I leave
All this beauty behind
And forfeit the joy in my life
In the name of an enemy

I'll have the last word
I'll have the last laugh
Sure as the room is growing cold
I'll have the last word
I'll have the last laugh
Sure as your blood is running cold

Far be it for I
To leave all this beauty behind
I will stay
To watch you wither away
And with any luck
You may be hit by a truck
And I will remain
To dance upon your grave
Oh, look, can't you see
How much your death means to me
Please won't you play
In a busy street
Far be it for I
To leave all this beauty behind
I will remain
To dance upon your grave

When I was a teen, I wasn’t Suicidal, exactly
—as I put it at the time, “It’s not that I want to die,
it’s just that I don’t want to live (like this).”

But I did think of myself as suicidal at times,
as at that age, I conflated ideation with urges.

I eventually found a transitory distraction
that made me declare I “wasn’t suicidal anymore.”
That distraction came in the form of a person.
But I’m not convinced a person can make the difference
between whether another person wants
to stay in the world or get the fuck out.
So setting that aside and thinking back,
what really made the difference for me was probably
this song, and what it made me realize about myself.

I have a strong sense of justice,
and the idea of killing myself
and adding to the injustice in the universe offends me. 

All my friends (I think?) are suicidal,
like for-real suicidal, and it is something
I cannot really relate to. Euthanasia, I get.
But suicide is alien to me.
But I certainly don’t think it is a weak
or lame impulse, and it does seem a sign of sanity
in response to living in an insane world.

Still, I am grateful not to have that urge.
And for the inspiration these half-serious,
half-silly lyrics gave goth-teen-me to say
“Fuck it, I don’t need to go, they should go,”
I am forever grateful.