His Death.
Holding onto a cold hand,
see the icy eyes,
gaze around the body,
notice a bunch of lies.
There are tear marks,
all on his face,
whiskey on the table,
knife near to its base.
He drowned in his tears,
a knife he was stabbed by,
he did nothing,
only did he cry.
Over his body,
the devil will dine,
there are no regrets,
but the body was mine.
Dark Side
I know,
I'm not worth it,
for my dark side,
drags me back.
Trying my best,
I reach the end,
'cause I don't want,
any of this.
I don't want,
any of this,
reaching out to you,
exposing me to you.
I'm best alone,
but I love you,
and I don't want you,
going down with me.
