Different Ways Of Decay
Crisis
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I think I'm rotting on the inside
Way down deep inside my soul...
I've built this little coffin that I live in every day
I peek out every day or so to see those ghosts at play
I've got my knife right by my side
I keep it warm, I hold the blade
I want to keep watch, keep hold...
For when they come to take my soul away
I've got this fear living inside me
It keeps me crippled and cold
Like a child I lie frozen
I hope these arms won't reach out and take hold
There's blood on my face it keeps me warm at night...
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