Suicide Hotline Songtext
von The Prettiots

On a scale of one to Plath I′m like a four
My head's not in the oven but I can′t get off the floor
It's not that bad, I won't take it too far
I see a good shrink and hey dream boy′s no bell jar

I′m not fine but I'll be okay
I probably won′t kill myself today


Woolf took a dip with some rocks in her pockets
I'd say comparatively, I′ve got a bad case of the fuck-its
It's not that bad and I′m told I'll be fine
But it feels like shit right now, so just let me whine

I'm not fine but I′ll be okay
I probably won′t kill myself today

The sun rose for Hemingway when he was twenty-seven
I've got a couple of years but I doubt it′s gonna happen
I'm pretty fucking jaded for someone my age
But I don′t have any plans with Ernie's twelve-gauge

I′m not fine but I'll be okay
I probably won't kill myself today


I′m not okay but I guess I′ll be fine
Please don't call suicide hotline, hotline