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I AM SLAVE OF MY THIRST FOR INDISCRETION GOOD BECOMES WORSE HOLD MY MY BROKEN HAND CRUSHED BY FUCKING HONEST DEEDS I GIVE IT ALL TO ANGELIC DEMONS SEWING THEIR PRECIOUS DYING SEEDS Let the night carve into my soul Epitaphs of wasted words the demons stole I cannot die with the will to live My insides cry, no more to give I cannot reach my own plateau These voices in my head tell me no! And like a leech it will not go This worm of hate will feed until its full! I AM SICK OF MY THIRST FOR A NEW DIRECTION GOOD LEADS TO WORST SOMETIMES I WANT TO FEEL LIKE I DID THAT WARM JULY I GIVE IT ALL TO MY WORTHLESS FEELINGS I EVEN FORGOT HOW TO CRY pierce me PIERCE ME!! LIKE A CHRIST!! WITH MY OWN DISEASE!! I'VE FUCKIN SCRAPED MY KNEES! From Letras Mania