You want to play?
Is your finger ready to fire?
Ready to shoot your harsh words,
through my hopes and desires?
For if your ready to shoot
Go right ahead
But if your ready to **** another
Then you must be ready to be dead

It comes to a point
When living seems dumb
For everything warm stays silent
As everything cold shrieks "Come"

Now there's an artist
But here's the funny twist
Her brush is a blade
And her canvas is her wrist