Whittle away
Fake bullets made of wood
Painted black

Make others not want to stay
You'd shoot yourself I'd you could
Don't cut anyone a bit of slack

Your clothes begin to fray
You don't stay although you should
Leave your shanty shack

Follow barren landscape all day
You need to find some life if only you could
Your spirit begins to lack

Ask the boy how he feels he'll say okay
You'd help him more if only you could
Both carrying a heavy sack

Soon it will be your last day
You don't lie to him even when you should
The rain and thunder come with a crack

You're body begins to decay
You wan to help him more, if only you could
You're last thought is never look back.