The Door

Will some thoughtful person please show me the door
I just don’t want to live around here any more

The last thing I want is to tell you how to live
It’s up to you to decide what to take or to give

And I would now like to take myself away
To somewhere that I can just quietly stay

You don’t have to tell me a story or sing me a song
I can slip away quickly before they know that I’ve gone

It seems like a modest request to ask to depart
It was not my idea to even exist here from the start

And I’m not asking for treasures or any pie in the sky
All I want is a pistol and your permission to die