Gross thread and rusted needles

Constant psychosis
Sustains my failures
Retains the hate I feel for my bloodflow
Represses the lassitude I feel for my chest's beating

I restored my own wounds with my addictions
My vanity of sin
Sealed my lacerations with gross thread and rusted needles
And paid for the mistakes my hands made

You'd never believe what I told you while you were sleeping
The panic in you would be so indescribable
That scrap your face until skinless and die
Would be the only things you'd wish

Just by describing the place I want to be at
And things I don't dare to say again

A place where to know I'm so much nothing
Where the gold is to find methods to end each day
Where the demons have no wings
Where the sunlight never comes out again

No more nights
No more light

Time to keep in silence
To praise the rope in my neck that keeps my face proudly risen

Time has become silent...
...Time wounds all heals