This little girl came to me
She started to cry...
I cut
I bleed...
She was 16 the day she died,
in disbelief her lover cried...
Your smile made the sunrise,
You eyes made the waves break...
A chill down her spine
The wind on her hair...
In the darkest hour
Of the darkest night...
Often intrigued by that treacherous path
Your victims are born from your perilous wrath...
I once knew someone
who always used to smoke...
Pray...
Scream...
Leaning against this tree, inhaling cancer,
plotting my own death...
I carve your name out
In my blood on the floor...
I taste the blood,
I smell the fear...