Fiercely
Fiercely...

I used to wish
for something great...

Its insanity to think
That I could speak...

I miss
I hurt...

I'm pretty sure I want the pieces of you to fade
like tiny grains of sand...

Pulse,
the type of thing that makes you want to...

I think I must be fond of misery
for I depend on you guys to be there for me...

My hands bleed
for the one who...

Withering.
I would rip out these vocal cords that allow me to...

I see the red
The red of your grin...

Oh the ache
Within my soul...

Children's hands play with the muted wings of lost...
and tear them apart in fury as they try to escape...