Spinning circles 'round a broken madness
Crimson blood-drops on endless blackness
Graceful crystal falling salty sweetness
Gentle warming, a little cleansing.

Well, I race around the circle, my pretty prison cell
Picking open scabs that could have healed so very well.
I find a knife and twist it, echo a painful cry
But brush a hand over my eyes and it'll come away dry.

I couldn't ask for more, and I can't hope for less
To crush my head and heart, I would need a painless death.
Shut me in my prison, but I've got no wrong to confess.
Except my wish to break the madness.