I COULD VISION THE BLOOD ON THE FLOOR,
I CAN SEE THE BULLET HOLES ON HIS DOOM
I CAN IMAGINE MY HAND WITH BLOOD STAINS
I DREAM, OF MY SELF BURNING UP IN FLAMES
I FEAR THE INTENSION OF KILL
I FEAR THAT I MIGHT LIKE IT, AND DO IT JUST FOR THRILL
I DREAM OF DEAD PEOPLE EVERY NIGHT
AND FIND MYSELF WITH MY KNIFE
BLOOD MAKES ME FEEL DESIRE,
TO LET GO OF THE TRIGGER AND LET IT FIRE.
BUT, I FEAR THAT I WOULD KILL
THAT I WOULND'T LIVE WITH MYSELF IF I WILL
I COULD HEAR THE CRY'S OF THE DEAD
I COULD HEAR THE VOICES INSIDE MY HEAD
IN THE END I KNOW AM GOING TO DIE
ITS JUST WHEN, AND A MATTER OF TIME.
I FEAR THAT I WOULD KILL
BUT IF I HAVE TO, I MIGHT JUST WILL.
