|
Can't stand to live in this void |
|
Blood flows cold and skin is dead |
|
My mind plays tricks on me I wish it was real |
|
But I am numb, I thought I could feel |
|
My thoughts is playing on repeat |
|
Running down this one-way street |
|
There is no way for me to turn around |
|
I'm moving faster now straight into the ground |
|
Scarred, I want to feel real pain |
|
I need to be defleshed |
|
Bruised, tear my skin straight off |
|
I got to be stripped down |
|
My mind is weak and my soul is dust |
|
A pawnshop halo soiled by rust |
|
Dismal thoughts are my companionship |
|
I crave these lies just to keep a grip |
|
I suffer plague of disbelief |
|
Salvation is my word of grief |
|
Screaming, tearing making silent noise |
|
This self-content is my new drug of choice |
|
Scarred, I want to feel real pain |
|
I need to be defleshed |
|
Bruised, tear my skin straight off |
|
I got to be stripped down |
|
Scarred, I want to feel real pain |
|
I need to be defleshed |
|
Bruised, tear my skin straight off |
|
I got to be stripped down |
|
Scarred, I want to feel real pain |
|
I need to be defleshed |
|
Bruised, tear my skin straight off |
|
I got to be stripped down |