The disease of life took you.
With its dark boney claws looking for me.
My wrists are as red as the rosses on your coffen door.
The wind blows leaving only one, wilted and weak
My blood streaming down my arms
Death's claws tearing my neck
Load the gun
Sharpen the knife
The most potent posins
Tie my noose tight
He took you and keeps his look for me
Im loseing the war, in defeat
The last sreams ring through my ears
My tears and the last breath I take
He grasp my neck, clawing me down
Choaking my air, my life
Streaming blood
Dizzy from posin
Choacking hands
And acheing breaths
Im being hauntid
I just will not die
Years of abuse and torcher
Death just wolnt drag me under
He wants his laughs
His close calls, his fun
Years of this I think id be gone
No, streaching out my tears for even more years
Death has yet to accept me
Maybe one day ill get lucky.
