| Can’t stand to live in this void
|
| Blood flows cold and skin is dead
|
| My mind plays tricks on me I wish it was real
|
| But I am numb, I thought I could feel
|
| My thoughts is playing on repeat
|
| Running down this one-way street
|
| There is no way for me to turn around
|
| I’m moving faster now straight into the ground
|
| Scarred, I want to feel real pain
|
| I need to be defleshed
|
| Bruised, tear my skin straight off
|
| I got to be stripped down
|
| My mind is weak and my soul is dust
|
| A pawnshop halo soiled by rust
|
| Dismal thoughts are my companionship
|
| I crave these lies just to keep a grip
|
| I suffer plague of disbelief
|
| Salvation is my word of grief
|
| Screaming, tearing making silent noise
|
| This self-content is my new drug of choice
|
| Scarred, I want to feel real pain
|
| I need to be defleshed
|
| Bruised, tear my skin straight off
|
| I got to be stripped down
|
| Scarred, I want to feel real pain
|
| I need to be defleshed
|
| Bruised, tear my skin straight off
|
| I got to be stripped down
|
| Scarred, I want to feel real pain
|
| I need to be defleshed
|
| Bruised, tear my skin straight off
|
| I got to be stripped down |