Stareing in to my eyes.
You being to cry.
You pick up your knife.
Is this your love?
Stareing in my eyes, we both start to cry.
I grab hold of you.
I hold on tight.
I fall to my knees.
You pull away.
Blood covers your hands.
Is this your love?
And as you stand there crying,
I lie here dieing.
Is this your love?