Never knew just where to draw the line. Always waking up too late. She’s a little dull at times. Light her on fire so she can shine. She turns away like the evening sun Only for a minute then she’s gone. She says it’s all she ever wanted But maybe that’s not the hardest one Sit down and crack a smile to laugh Pouring thoughts into your little green book. I’ll be your Elliot Smith If you’ll be my Sylvia Plath. Chorus: The greatest thing in all the world, Please don’t be my suicide girl. She’s something of charity case With a bottle of Zoloft and a Miller Light. Always giving up her life. To anyone with time to waste. Plain as day but sexy at night Dancing like an epileptic willow tree. She’s the ending of the story If the book is Wuthering Heights. Cornered in a snowstorm she calls her life. Fading fast and learning slow. Crying about the things gone wrong. A manic-depressive cheerleaders’ midwife. The greatest thing in all the world, Please don’t be my suicide girl.