Knife in your hand tears running down your cheeks the blood,
the blad going though your veins...oh the pleasure the rush of blood,
the feeling of being alive the pleasure it give u, the satisfaction.
But why so empty inside looking outside the window,
people walk with sorrows on their faces, blood in their hands.
You can see right though them they're hearts full of sins,
lies and darkness.The sun has set for no return, no more warmth
but the coldness of lies inside of everyone,