This blade knows no restraint
I'm consciously going faint
The blood I've bled, Red
My will inside, Dead
Oh my, My wrists are bleeding
The flow of life's will retreating
Oh my, My wrists are bleeding
This loss of life's the loss I'm needing
Digging in with a jagged smile
Blood for Christmas, I'm a happy child
A word's much sharper than a roses thorn
A gouge for the mistake, to wake in the morn
No comments:
Post a Comment