They Found Her

I think they found her at twenty seven,
Dead on the bathroom floor.
A rope, ten scripts, four razor blades,
Couldn't take this shit no more.

Can't recall why she should've waited,
No reason of which I know.
Wouldn't nothin' but a loser,
Some stoned back alley ho.

No one really wanted her I guess.
Wasn't a thing to need her for.
A gun, some poison, to many pills,
Couldn't take this shit no more.

©February 22, 2003