Faint Scratch

My final breath has gone,
With scratches on my arm showing where Iâ??ve been.
Killed me, I am nobody,
And I don't want them to care.
Not at all.

Nothing deep, just a mark on the surface,
No need to cause the sting of blood.
Contact with the other side,
Now I understand why they did it.
I want it to go away now.

Walking proud that I wouldn't do it,
Then I turn my back on my friends.

I don't want to lose you.