Are Those Tears. . .
Silent with a mouth full of words
Regrets don't exist when guilt consumes itself
In the time it takes to shed a tear
Another memory fades and another moment dies
Mark my words, don't cross my path
Mark my words, don't cross my path
Don't cross my path
Mark my words, don't cross my path
Mark my words
Hide behind the walls that these hands built
Every stone was put there with shame
And every stone was plastered in my guilt
Dry your tears with bloody fists
Cease your crying and show me your heart
With the blood smeared on such a pretty face
Such a pretty face