I got a story, a story to tell. About a long road Back from a sory of hell I been flying almost every night. I been ready to burn And I been living to die. SO take a look, take a look in my eyes: Cause I got no remorse for all the hate That burns inside. Take a look at my suicide. Self destruction I know the streets can be so cold I know these streets Can make you feel so cold. I've got this gun to my head all alone. Another bottle of pills almoste gone; My cigarette burns Right trough my soul. I'm almoste home. And I'"ve seen: Broken hearts and broken dreams Like broken bodies. Under the pale street lights tonight. I've seen the hate and yeah; I've heard the lies. So I turned my back And now I'm on the outside I know the streets can be so cold I'm almoste home. Self destruction. I'm on my way home.