I still hadn't been able to forgive you
Your drunken seduction of someone else
You'd taken my virginity
And that was special to me
But not to you obviously
It killed me inside and I wished I'd died
I was crossing the road to go to the shop
When I saw you crossing by the bus stop
All you'd thought of was me.
You didn't even see what hit you
The van turned over at the roundabout
Leaving the snail trail of blood
A twisted and broken pile of you
Pieces of flesh, teeth and shin
Bones stuck out from your skin
Your pretty head all caved in
You looked like rotten fruit
But I survived and wished it was me who'd died
Now the razor cuts another notch
In the inside of my arm
But I cant' press down hard enough
And I feel so terribly cowardly
All you wanted was to be with me
And that is just so lovely
Red faced and teary eyed
I wish it was me who'd died
Probably the only time ever I will write a song about death with my tongue anywhere near in my cheek.
'Death Discs' were a trend in the 1950s of releasing music singles about (often teenage) tragedy that caused a little controversy and included tracks like Tell Laura I Love Her, Teen Angel, Leader of the Pack and Dead Man's Curve. As well as inspiring later hits like Ode to Billy Joe and Bat Out of Hell I just have a love of them and have always wanted to write one. They were always so melodramatic and often a little bit unintentionally comical in their over-the-topness. So while this isn't 100% serious, nor it is 100% comedy, because death and suicide simply isn't funny, it's in that grey area known as the Death Disc :D.
I'm not going into all the death disc 'conventions' I used here, cos there's loads lol.
