His hair is like darkness,
Janurary nights...

They can't tell me who to be,
cause I'm not what they see...

Why does my heart beat this way?
I want it to simply go away...

I ask these questions everynight,
asked straight to the one with will and might...

Sticks and Stones may break my bones,
but whips and chains excite me...

Roses are red
and froggies are green...

The blood runs down streaking the walls,
as I felt the cries and heard the calls...