My wrists are the canvas
and the razor is the brush...
I know you are there
and I can sense you...
Like a demon from hell
you appear in my thoughts...
The streets are darkened,
As the sun leaves...
I'm sitting here
just thinking...
I Could not see past the waters.
Even the forest has begun to die...
Red Rose held in my hand,
As I sit in an uncharted dream land...
*cuts*
I cut my wrists...
Wishing you were somehow here again
Wishing that you were near...
It's kinda like when you're laying there in the...
Fake me walked home on Thursday night,
And came straight through the door...
Running moving with fear
the place your going ain't near...