I would cut my throat myself just to bleed here at your feet
if the crimson pool would wash away the sins of my release
and upon the marble floor I'd trace your name in red
to redraw the line that separates the living from the dead
as I hunted for you and hungered for you
I longed for affirmation in the glances that we'd trade
but your eyes just honed the blade
you carved new insecurities with surgical precision
with subtle masquerades that kept infecting the incision
in countless waking nights I've hoped to feel your hands upon my face
in a thousand tortured dreams you've let me die in your embrace...
why, in the midst of having hopes of seeing our love through
would I give up myself
deny my life
and die inside for you?
and while I know it took courage to use a weapon
but ignore the resulting screams
to bathe me in gasoline
then have me strike the match to complete this tragedy,
burned alive for the last time again,
is this a song of myself I sing?
for I have searched for validation
through emotional alchemy
and the trap of condemnation
prevents reflecting what I'd see
if I looked within
beyond your poisoned kisses
and the effect of their cruelty
absorbsion into agony and licking old wound clean
leads me to forget
that I stand in solidarity
with the man whose work has amounted to nothing
and the infirmed once so strong
to the shattered bride who's veil is stained
with memories of what went wrong
burned beyond recognition again
this is a song of myself I sing
for as I search for validation and originality
the trap of condemnation
prevents reflecting what I'd know
if I looked beyond your poison
while into death hand in hand we go
for me there wasn't enough horror in the world
and so I wasn't satisfied until you fed on my bones
you who once whispered beside me in the dark
if the crimson pool would wash away the sins of my release
and upon the marble floor I'd trace your name in red
to redraw the line that separates the living from the dead
as I hunted for you and hungered for you
I longed for affirmation in the glances that we'd trade
but your eyes just honed the blade
you carved new insecurities with surgical precision
with subtle masquerades that kept infecting the incision
in countless waking nights I've hoped to feel your hands upon my face
in a thousand tortured dreams you've let me die in your embrace...
why, in the midst of having hopes of seeing our love through
would I give up myself
deny my life
and die inside for you?
and while I know it took courage to use a weapon
but ignore the resulting screams
to bathe me in gasoline
then have me strike the match to complete this tragedy,
burned alive for the last time again,
is this a song of myself I sing?
for I have searched for validation
through emotional alchemy
and the trap of condemnation
prevents reflecting what I'd see
if I looked within
beyond your poisoned kisses
and the effect of their cruelty
absorbsion into agony and licking old wound clean
leads me to forget
that I stand in solidarity
with the man whose work has amounted to nothing
and the infirmed once so strong
to the shattered bride who's veil is stained
with memories of what went wrong
burned beyond recognition again
this is a song of myself I sing
for as I search for validation and originality
the trap of condemnation
prevents reflecting what I'd know
if I looked beyond your poison
while into death hand in hand we go
for me there wasn't enough horror in the world
and so I wasn't satisfied until you fed on my bones
you who once whispered beside me in the dark