Hello Suicide,
it's been a while since you've passed by.
Do you remember who I am?
I was once your favourite lamb.
You use to taunt me, day in and day out,
I use to ask what it was about
and you always told me to give in to you,
oft times I felt there was no more to do
than submit myself to the succubus of death;
the craver of humans and their pale flesh.
Hello Suicide,
can you teach me how to fly
out into the world were the dead resides?
All of this pain, it just hurts my sides.
I can't stand the mirror as it stares
deep into my core... can it hear my prayers?
I just want the beauty of the feminines I see,
it's so hard just to live here, so hard being me.
I'm nothing but a harlot for this blade inside my hand,
but then again I'm not so sure this affliction I can stand.
Self-mutilation,
with a side of complication,
I'm living in a nation
where love is lost of patience.
I'm no symbol of perfection,
I'm use to the rejection.
I look in every section
of my heart for my reflection.
But it never works just like my fragile heart,
without him I'd likely break apart...
But it never works just like my fragile heart,
I took the cowards way out, I found a different art...
Hello Suicide,
it's been a while since you passed by.
You were my lover, you were my friend,
and now I'm stuck inside the Devil's Den.
I was overcome with wonderous lust
to feel that liquid that tastes of rust.
It's been a while since we danced,
that blade and I were so entranced.
Hello Suicide,
you taught me how to cry.
You taught me how to shiver
with a pain that was shown in every sliver
of my heart as you crawled into my soul
and over took me and my being as a whole.
No one really likes you, you're full of desolation,
you took away my life and named it celebration.
No, I'm not your slave, so I bid you adeiu...
but it's too late, I complied to you.
Self-mutilation,
with a side of complication,
I'm living in a nation
where love is lost of patience.
I'm no symbol of perfection,
I'm use to the rejection.
I look in every section
of my heart for my reflection.
