| All the victims I have mutilated have left their mark
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| Stained my mind
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| Left their voices in my head
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| Always forcing me
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| To murder
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| Screaming louder haunting my thoughts
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| In a lame attempt to rid out my mind I grab my tool squeeze it firm and hard
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| To let others feel my despair
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| They’ll experience my pain
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| Smashing
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| Crushing pounding in my fucking forehead until
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| It’s sore
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| Hate, I feel my anger rising fast and hard
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| My only way out now is to open my head and let them out
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| Control I’m losing step-by-step
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| Panic attacks must let them out
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| Out of my mind
|
| Fumbling
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| Reaching grabbing to get
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| Something that is sharp
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| Enough to purge get rid of them
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| Something that will make me
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| Free
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| First thing I get hold of is a massive rusty old fucked up drill
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| Big enough to do the job
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| Voices calling louder
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| Makes me fall down have to do it now
|
| Get it over with
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| Put it to the head
|
| Take a deep breath
|
| Here we go
|
| Starting out kind of slow
|
| But the pain will fuel
|
| Let them out
|
| All the victims I have mutilated have left their mark
|
| Stained my mind
|
| Left their voices in my head
|
| Screaming louder
|
| Faster harder deeper blood comes
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| From the hole in my head
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| Along with the voices
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| They are filling the room screaming
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| Louder than before just like a high-pitched siren
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| I was not purged from them
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| I set them free
|
| Did not get rid of them
|
| They scream
|
| Louder than ever before |