DEATH is inevitable and we all know that
So tell me why you weep and wish upon your death so soon
Slitting and carving shapes upon your wrists
If only I could draw a beautiful picture instead on your wrists
Paint you an image you've never seen to show you how I escaped from this hole of despair
So come with me and let me run my brush against those wrists so we can escape and never
come back to that hole.