I wait next to the phone
Waiting for you to call...

The flames lick the sky
Smoke circling overhead in the setting sun...

In my eyes
Are the hopes I had...

On the ingrained morning of death
depicted pitches witness infront of my breath...

His innocents exceeds me
Running to flee...

The ridicule stings once more
Now that I find myself on the floor...

Just watch me bleed
Watch the running of my red disdain...

Trust not tomorrow's whisper
Though the tree fondly become a little crisper...

Why do I whisper
When no one will ever hear me scream...

The horrors of last night
Creep back into my mind...

Walk into the space that is free
Hold out your hand, smile as if happy...

Hold on tight
Pull the knife out...