Woke up,
Tripped down,
Scrapped my knee on the way to the ground,
No trace of blood,
No trace of blood,
Another victim of the dark,
Scared to walk into the light,
Scared to put down the knife,
Scared to know he was never right,
No trace of blood,
No trace of blood,
The night before? Hiding.
The day before? Running.
The week before? Crying.
The month before? Shaking.
No trace of blood,
No trace of blood,
Too many words in one head,
Too many thoughts driving to madness
Filling up and emptying away,
Unable to escape as the fire consumes,
No trace of blood,
No trace of blood,
One last day before the darkness,
Nothing more noticeable then the silence of voices,
All awaiting what's next,
All watching, as I lay in the pool that gathers.
No trace of blood,
No trace...