If You Live By The Sword, You Die By The Sword
I open my eyes, but I still manage to dream.
This cold bathroom floor, now just feels like home to me.
I stumble to the mirror, and I naturally start to clean.
My body's scorned with marks that say "These aren't the last lines that I'll see."
So, please cut this string attached to my wrist.
Buried in my shaking palm, I hold this evil in my fist.
I relive my pain with every scar.
It's a battle field of memories that just won't go away for me.
This world has tied me down, and the knot keeps tightening.
'Cause I'm just a puppet, dangling from this breaking string.
And, maybe I'll turn this blade the other way.
And, roll up my sleeves to let the scars show my mistakes.
So, please cut this string attached to my wrist.
Buried in my shaking palm, I hold this evil in my fist.
I relive my pain with every scar.
It's a battlefield of memories that just won't go away for me.
You couldn't make the cut, so now, you'll make this cut.
You couldn't make the cut, so now, you'll make this cut.
You couldn't make the cut, so now, you'll make this cut.
You couldn't make the cut, so now, you'll make this cut.
I can't breath, I'm in need, where's my crimson savior?
No, I won't crawl back just to bleed.
Forgive me, I promise I'll stay clean.