Crappy the Clown

He often talked of suicide as if it was a matter of fact.
So it was no surprise for me to hear that he lay on the railway track.
And he waited for the train to come and end his needless pain.
It was going to be his very last trip, he would never ride again.
And when at last, as the train had past, he let go of all his fears.
And he left me lost and lonely, nursing months of endless tears.
But what he clearly failed to see was he lost his pain and he gave it to me.
And now I walk this path of pain, knowing I’ll never see him again.
I tried to explain with the greatest of tact, that I just couldn’t commit to his suicide pact.
And I guess that he wanted the reasons why, when he wanted my help I weren’tt ready to die.
It was cus I had much more I wanted to give, and to accomplish this I needed to live.
And I’ll tell you what always gets to me, the thing that makes me sad.
Is so many chose to end their lives, just because they’re mad?
And now he is dead and has gone to Heaven, and I know he is feeling happy.
He was always the clown, in my home town, the clown that I called crappy.