strong words with a bad tone
with a tongue of snake, words flow
it's hard to hear that it's all your fault
the neighbours won't shut the doors
gossip through the streets it goes
finding excuse for the big joke
I beg you god I have to live this place
I'm rotten here I think god has left
should I turn to satan to help me out?
my room is shut with a iron and steel
the demons of my actions after my back
telling me to hear and go back
people tend the hurt the weak
some of them want to prey on weak
misery, and destruction is all they know
be polite take sharpest knife
go through my veins or my heart
it's just better than hearing your voice
spare me the smile of a killer frost
I know how it looks like without the lies
truth won't hurt the dying beast.
