I can’t write with all this rage
The knife I thought I put away
That slicing dicing silver blade
Always thrusting inwards
Always gutting my innards
Betrayal and deceit turn upon
The victim become his own a-bomb
Wasted red-eyed monster
And those who committed the crime
Walk away scott free without paying
Leaving me to do my own time
A prisoner of my own angry mind
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
I can’t write with all this rage
The knife I thought I put away
That slicing dicing silver blade
Always thrusting inwards
Always gutting my innards
Betrayal and deceit turn upon
The victim become his own a-bomb
Wasted red-eyed monster
And those who committed the crime
Walk away scott free without paying
Leaving me to do my own time
A prisoner of my own angry mind
