Everything is turning cold
You called the price and my body was sold
Im woth the fifty bucks you carry in your pocket
I have less worth than a fake silver locket
The cuts and bruises dont last
nither does the thing you promise to do fast
the tears may admit that im crying
but can you see in my eyes that im dying
lying on the cold floor
I should have gone through the other door
such a pretty face
such a cold embrace
dying is a hard task
especially when the killer wears a mask
left to care for another life
causes too much strife
goodbye and goodnight
for this is my last fight
