Composer’s Sketchbook | “What’s So Wrong with Suicide?”

I wrote and recorded this one around 1970. I’ve never been suicidal myself, partly because I have seen horrible situations turn around so many times. I do understand that sometimes the pain can be so overwhelming that even if you absolutely knew that it would get better even in just a few days, it might still hurt so much that one has to end the pain rather than endure until the storm clears.

Still, I felt if one becomes wrapped up in such thoughts, it becomes almost an act of courage to take that step you can never undo. And is perhaps lifting oneself up to that point of courage that actually tips the balance toward suicide, and the pain is just the reason, not the trigger. One last defiant act.

Yet since that is so permanent, perhaps it is worth taking one more look at the possibilities before committing to that irrevocable action. And that’s what this song is about: if you find the courage rising to take your own life because you cannot endure, stand back for just one moment before you take that step and consider. Costs you nothing and may just save your life for better times.

Lyrics

Ten or twenty
ought to do the trick.
Guaranteed to make me sleep,
money back if I get sick.

What’s so wrong, with suicide?
We all must die sometime.
Why can’t I decide
when to end the rhyme?

Nothing left to live for.
Only clouds above.
Funny how I’d settle for a smile
and live on less than love.

Lonely, lonely,
a scraped out hole inside.
All my dreams
with reality collide.

Mood change, thoughts rearrange,
memory starts to move.
Just when I’ve made a choice
my mind will jump the groove.

Good times, good times…
you know I’ve had a few.
Rainy days and shades of grays
give way to shades of blue.

Holding hands, holding more;
long-lost friend is at the door.
Why don’t we reminisce
and make it like before?

Sunshine, sunshine:
riding on a ray.
Black out, back in,
please don’t take my sunshine away.

I see it now: oh what a fool.
What am I trying to prove?
I’ll reach the phone and call for help.
Oh, God, my arms won’t move…

Help me, help me.
Please won’t someone help me…
Help me, help me.
Oh, God, won’t someone help me.

Help me….

Help me….