Different Ways Of Decay Crisis
I think I'm rotting on the inside.
way down deep inside my soul...
I've built this little coffin that I live in every day.
I peek out every day or so to see those ghosts at play.
I've got my knife right by my side.
I keep it warm, I hold the blade.
I want to keep watch, keep hold...
for when they come to take my soul away.
I've got this fear living inside me.
it keeps me crippled and cold.
like a child I lie frozen.
I hope these arms won't reach out and take hold.
there's blood on my face it keeps me warm at night...
way down deep inside my soul...
I've built this little coffin that I live in every day.
I peek out every day or so to see those ghosts at play.
I've got my knife right by my side.
I keep it warm, I hold the blade.
I want to keep watch, keep hold...
for when they come to take my soul away.
I've got this fear living inside me.
it keeps me crippled and cold.
like a child I lie frozen.
I hope these arms won't reach out and take hold.
there's blood on my face it keeps me warm at night...
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