I feel like i'm having a mental abortion
poison in my veins dosed in deadly porportions
pain and torture yeah thats my fortune
a knife across my throat and my hand is strokin
self mutalation but to me its general
i'm addicted to pain it outlasts the demerol
self inflicted wounds from a razorblade thats sharpened
my body lays stiff rigimortis has hardened
sortin through the past and the signs that were missed
encryped vocab beneath the skin that is stitched
my life story lays past the surface of my corneias
lies and truth mixed with an imbalanced formula
russian roulette with the price of death
never take another breath its been seeped from my chest
finally, i can rest.
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