I wrote and recorded this one in the early 1970s. It begins with a quick quip before the song identifying it as the first recording on Volume 3 of my Composer’s Sketchbook (the first side of the second cassette).

You can read the lyrics below and follow along, if you like, as the recording itself it a bit muddy.

In regard to the lyrics and title of the song, 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 gets wrapped up in such thoughts, it almost becomes an act of courage to take that step you can never undo. And perhaps it is 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, I believe 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….

My Composer’s Sketchbook is available on Amazon
with downloadable mp3s of every song, demo, and riff