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?