EDIT: Nice, number 2 of all time, Thanks everyone!

Yes, it's a story telling track. This may be my last track for a bit because I have to send this laptop in for repairs. Hope you all enjoy!

Beat by Shadowville

Sitting alone in the back of the class
A little boy's bullied because of his past
Feeling trapped, behind the metaphorical glass
Holding him back, Psychologically clasped
to his chair, it's more than he can bare
Frustration forcing him, to yank at his hair
He's alone, stuck living in a broken home
But too much pride, to make it openly known
A mother on drugs and his father's long gone
Step father started well, but since then things have gone wrong
So a week ago, he packed his bag
Left without a word, cuz that house was a plague
Learned from an early age to bottle up his tension
So all this weight, goes with barely a mention
Then the teacher calls him out, for his lack of attention
For the 3rd time this week, he's back in detention

And he looked to the sky, no trace of smile
No trace of a smile, no no track of a smile
Flooding the streets, with the tears of a child
Tears of a child, tears tears of a child

All the other kids used to call him names
Forced him to walk down the halls in shame
Until one day, something snapped inside
Punched some kid, and cracked his spine
But what's next, in this fractured mind?
The only way to find out is the passage of time
He laughs as he cries, he gets blasted by
The drink, as he hopes that he dies
Mixing the rye with a hit of cyanide
Counsellor asked if he needed help and he lied
But he knows, deep down in his soul
Everything's going black and it's out of his control
But the drink and the drugs keep calling out loud
Only 14 but coke's on his mind now
Snorts once and goes in anaphylactic shock
Prays to the sky "please kill me God"

And he looked to the sky, no trace of smile
No trace of a smile, no no track of a smile
Flooding the streets, with the tears of a child
Tears of a child, tears tears of a child

Hoping against hope, that he's actually dead
He opens his eyes, in the hospital bed
Just wants to be rid of his entire existence
Sick and tired, of being society's misfit
Hears the tick tock, the sound of the clock
Then hears his heart, and wills it to stop
Mentally attempting to overstimulate
But the sedatives force him to lie still and emulate
The dead, o how close he feels
Talking to God, brokering deals
Finally regains control but feels like a slug
Waits for the nurse to leave, then crawls to the plug
Pulls the cord and in the blink of an eye
Rolls over onto the floor where he can die
Doctor hears no pulse so he arrives in haste
Sees the kid on the floor, smile on his face