She tighlty grips the knife in her hand
as she watches her blood drip onto the sand...

I heard your voice through a photograph
it brought up memories of the past...

Swallowed by darkness
it consumes my soul...

This may be the death of me
my heart just wants to be free...

I am so tired now
so damn weak...

My final fall to the knife
had it next to me like my life...

The cuts on my body
the blood all around...

Love is gentle
love is kind...

I'm sure you can imagine
it's simple as can be...

Someone like you
is very rare...

You're not coming home
i can't believe...

A little girl
so young and small...