I stand upon the cliff edge, looking out, alone.

Above the sky is laden, grey and dark, forlorn.

Just one step that's all I need, just one to end it all,

One small step to end my life, one step for me to fall.

But is this what I really want, to cut my life so short.

Have I nothing left at all, nothing, zero, nought?

Who will miss me when I’m gone, those I leave behind?

Will they care that I'm not here, will they really mind?

And when I take that one small step and plunge into the sea,

Will that be the end of it, just the death of me?

And when they find me battered, lifeless torn and dead,

Will it really bother them, will I get inside their head?

They have their lives, those rescuers, whose job it is to save

Why should they care if I go to my watery grave?

And when I am discovered and taken to the shore

and they ask her, "Is this him, are you really sure?"

Will she care about me being battered torn and dead?

Yes, of course, she will, regardless what she said.

The rows, the fights, mean nothing then, words just said in anger,

I know she would be so upset when she tells the kids and mother.

So should I take that one small step, finish it forever?

Finish all this worry, from work, and stress, whatever?

So much better in the end for all involved whoever,

If I just don't go back home, not now, not then, not ever.

So, yes, I'll take that step but first of all, I'll turn

and take that step the other way for surely I must learn,

That in this life there is no me, and no-one else at all

There are many people who can lift me when I want to fall.