In his last desperation,
Before he takes his life,
How broad his life was,
How narrow became his mind,-
"Tomorrow can bring a new day!",
"If tomorrow ever comes,"
"Everyday is the same thing,"
What has he done?-

In his self-isolation,
Refusing to feel any pain,
"Time for you to grow up,"
That is what she once said,-
He picked up his guitar,
Carefully placed it in the case,
At the young age of 41,
"Too old for childish games,"-

Yesterday and depression,
Between both, there he stands,
A price for him to go by,
The cost of being a man,-
"Killing myself to provide,"
"I know this can't go on,"
Was the last words he spoke to me,
What has he done?
What have I done?
What I've done--