Blood sprays on my cheek, I’ll deal with it later
This couple’s my cheese and I’m their cheese grater
By the clothes they’ve got on, I assume newly wed
Its too bad that her dress got soaked as she bled
I just do it to silence the voice
Some call it a conscience, I call it noise
A psychiatric ward is where I belong
I know in my head; that there’s something wrong
To me, this isn’t some sort of messed up little game
I need to because you left me standing in the rain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem