Woorden: Most Precious Blood. Mad As The March Hare.

Lock me in a room, throw away the room
There's nothing left
Growing fears
Sleep for years
Wake in tears
I'm on the edge
I'm on the fucking edge
I swear to you
Make one move
Give me one excuse, I dare you
These words are ammunition
This voice is a gun
Not one of you is safe
Fuck you all
Turn and run
I've learned my lesson
Life is barren and bereft
Deaccession until there's nothing left
Puttin gyou away or putting you to rest
Denial or death, which one is best? So much for trying
So what, you're dying
Better you than me
Boiling contempt
Singe and sear
No escape from here
I'm on the edge
I'm on teh fucking edge
I swear to you
Make one move
Give me one excuse
I dare you
These words are ammunition
This voice is a gun
Not one of you is safe
Fuck you all
Turn and run