How pretty is a deadly thing Under your control? How much pleasure does it bring Your damaged, darkened soul, Having such a pretty knife to hold?
Oh, aren’t deadly things the best? When the terrors come at night And they lay your mind to rest When he sleeps by your side And you don’t need them to fight Did he pass some kind of test?
Oh, aren’t deadly things beautiful? You protect when under protection Low self esteem but looking dreadful So you add him to your collection Judging by the way he gets you He must be a deadly thing, too.
Oh, aren’t deadly things the best Sleeping peacefully on your chest?