I'm drawing a picture,
But it has a twist,
I'm drawing a picture,
Cut into my wrist.
I'm painting this picture,
I'm trying to think,
I'm painting this picture,
With some red ink.
I call this art,
You call it sick,
I call this art,
My little trick
Details with a razor,
Blocks with a knife,
Details with a razor,
Doesn't take my life.
The blood dries,
I kiss it soft,
The blood dries,
Rope's in the loft.
Slipknot ready,
I walk up the ladder,
Slipknot ready,
Feel even sadder.
I reach for the rope,
It has small blades,
I reach for the rope,
As my life fades. |
