On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me: a heart still barely breathing.
On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me: broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me: a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me: scattered, insane leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: bullets in my brain scattered, insane leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: coffin to lie in bullets in my brain scattered, insane leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: lies that I drown in coffin to lie in bullets in my brain scattered, insane leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me: ears that keep ringing lies that I drown in coffin to lie in bullets in my brain scattered, insane leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me: tears that wonβt stop spilling ears that keep ringing lies that I drown in coffin to lie in bullets in my brain scattered, insane leering lullabies a touch that still stings all this does is hurt a chill in the air broken, bleeding parts and a heart still barely breathing.