Behold, my very own Suicide Squad!
I got them myself after getting mad.
A knife, a loaded gun and anything bad,
I can recite them all a song in ballad.
Staying on this road is not for me,
I must cut ties with all that used to be.
Came broken and leaving as it is,
Nothing fixed me and this awful bliss.
Which of my Squad is perfect for the job?
Should I go my gun Betty or my knife Bob?
Which ever it may be, I know it'll end right.
I'm just expecting everthing's going out of sight.