They say it's strange,
When a hand sticks out a grave.
Some say it's reaching for life,
Others say it wants revenge.
All I got to say,
Is that it wants to show you what you did
This is my grave,
My hand!
My heart is in my hand.
Dripping my blood all over my grave,
Because you tore it out.
With no regards to my feelings.
You wanted fun,
You wanted fun!
So would you call this fun?
I surely would not.
For I give, and give,
And all I get is SHIT on.
I offer you my bloody heart one last time.
Cause if you dare take it,
There will be even worst pain.
Worst then the pains from the fires of hell!
But not for me,
But for you instead.
Cause knowing you,
You will eat it.
Devour it.
And consume ever last drop of blood that trickles down your chin and hands.
But my secret is,
Is that it is a corrupt heart.
Poisoned with the love that once flowed threw out my body,
But now that love is in you and gone from me.
I am actually free now.
And now you can feel the pain that I felt for so long.
