Burden

Her mumma used to tell her that she loved her Her daddy annually In her life it's the same old thing Shes a broken down, broken thing

What is wrong with me? One cut, two cut, cut a little deep One cut, two cuts What isn't wrong with me?

If I was born a boy, would you have cared for me? Maybe I shouldn't have been born at all Then you would be free, of the burden we call me

Rope? Knife? Gun? Jump? Or some pills? So many options To get rid of me