I remember, fateful strangers,
With good intentions.
Misdirection.
Expectations; now they'll be waiting,
For explanations,
For our behaviour.
When there's no questions,
There will be no answers.
But with desperate pressures,
Come desperate measures.
It's over.
I feel your hands around me now.
It's over.
Now times are changing,
All my senses failing.
I wretch just thinking,
Of how you betrayed me.
It stinks like poison.
The knife's been twisted.
My blood's escaping,
These wounds you gave me.
It's over.
I feel your hands around me now.
It's over.