All you see in me, is a apathetic vice.
Listening to my voice, to you, is as worst as filthy lice.
Now my soul and touch is as cold and chilling as bitter ice.
And now with a hidden razor, onto my heart I`ll slice.
Waiting for you to roll the bloody dice.
To decide whether I die or go on with my insignificant life.
Cutting my faithless dream, and prayer with strife.
But before you have the time, I end you with my secret knife.
And onto your heart I`ll slice.
