Angels come with broken wings
Baby cots, no diamond rings
Flirt around with death-like flings
Stars to fate

Loaded guns are flash and fun
A triggerpull and it is done
Soul is cheap, its all for none
It’s too late

Depression is my muse
Enough of the abuse
By my side
Depression is my muse
Felt like we’ve been used
Suicide

Motion pictures are in Braille
Spill the life on what is frail
To catch a cancer by its tail
Fuse to mate

Molded clay now seeps away
In discreet, a turn to pay
No other use for all turned gray
Two to hate

Depression is my muse
Enough of the abuse
By my side
Depression is my muse
Felt like we’ve been used
Suicide