| My blood, my flesh, my veins
|
| Play with me, play with me
|
| My bones, my beast
|
| Play with me, play with me
|
| There’s a starving beast inside my chest
|
| Playing with me until he’s bored
|
| Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
|
| Crawling his way out he rips open old wounds
|
| When I reach for the knife
|
| Placed on the bedside table
|
| Its blade reflects my determined face
|
| To plant it in my chest
|
| And carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins
|
| Hollow me out, hollow me out, I want to feel empty
|
| Where I could see my master’s thorns
|
| I’d start peeling the skin off his cheeks
|
| And scratch his eyes until he could no longer see
|
| The blood dripping on the white sheets of my bed
|
| The stains I will never manage to remove
|
| The stains I will never…
|
| The stains I will never manage to remove
|
| The stains I will never…
|
| My blood, my flesh, my veins
|
| Play with me, play with me
|
| My bones, my beast
|
| Play with me, play with me
|
| Dripping all over the floor
|
| I would drag myself outside
|
| As I open the front door
|
| The sun captures my weary face
|
| The weight comes off when I let go
|
| It’s so strange, being able to feel nothing
|
| Being able to feel nothing
|
| Being able to feel nothing
|
| Being able to feel nothing
|
| Being able to feel nothing
|
| Being able to feel nothing |