Slit your wrist because of pain and sorrow, and pray that you don't live to see tomorrow.

I guess I was right all along. My fairytale was too good to be true...

I would rather die than suffer the pain I feel seeing how much I hurt you each day...

Why must I have eyes to see you're not here? Why must I take one more breath?

Sometimes you have to run away to see who will follow you...

As I fall, I realize there is only one who can catch me, but how can I be sure, he'll be there?