Richard Divine Lyrics - Poetry Of The Deed - Frank Turner

Richard Divine made up his mind 

To take the last few steps to bathroom door 

From his bedroom floor and to lock himself in 

Steady young hands, meticulous plans 

Disposable razors and a blister pack filled 

With strong sleeping pills, a bath of hot water 

He said he's not for sale, said that he felt hounded 

Crowded and surrounded by this life he didn't choose 

He carefully wrote a funerary note 

On his best writing paper to set out the facts 

And sealed it with wax and left it in the kitchen 

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He left it out so his parents would know 

What there was waiting for them 

Pale cold skin, blood seeping in to the landing carpet 

He said he's not for sale, said that he felt hounded 

Crowded and surrounded by this life he didn't choose 

But everybody plays this game on a daily basis, they're not heroes 

They're survivors, it's not Shakespearean if they lose 

So do what you want, do what you want 

Do what the voices tell you 

Don't ever say, don't ever say that we didn't warn you 

'Cause we want you 

He said he's not for sale but he bought into his failure 

He's telling tales that hammer nails right into open palms 

A martyr in reverse, he's best at being worst 

The rest of us are cursed but we keep calm and we carry on 

So Richard, here it is 

Photos 

None of us are blameless, huddled here like strangers 

Shameless in our lists of all the changes we say we need 

But I think that you knew that you can't pretend 

It's news that if you cut yourself you'll bleed