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Blood On My Hand
The blood on your hands may fade but mine will never
For my hands are permanently stained with my mistakes
You talk of the blood on my hands as if it were a glove just stopping at my wrist
But there is no part of me that isn't stained and dripping crimson
You talk of me as if I'm an angel but I am not
I am a wolf, even in sheep's clothing I have claws and teeth
The devil is still the devil wrapped in silk
I am not good
I am not pure
I am a wolf in sheep's clothing, the devil wrapped in silk
I was my own murderer and that blood will forever be on me
For I am the blood and the blood is me
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