Woorden: Anathema. Empty.

Empty vessel under the sun wipe the dust
from my face another morning black Sunday
coming down again.. coming down again
Empty vessel empty veins
empty bottle wish for rain that pain again
wash the blood off my face the pulse from my brain
And I feel that pain again

I'm looking over my shoulder cause millions
will whisper I'm killing myself again
Maybe I'm dying faster but nothing ever last I
remember a night from my past when I was
stabbed in the back and its all coming back
And I feel that pain again

I abhor you I condemn you cause this pain
will never end you got away without a
scratch and now you're walking on a lucky
path I have to laugh but you'd better watch
your back

there's pathetic opposition they're the
cause of my condition I'll be coming back
for them I've a solution for this sad
situation nothing left but to kill myself again
Because I'm so empty