I hear You.
Your wicked sound. Why won't you go away?
My mind becomes gagged and bound.
I don't like the way you play.
I hate You.
Choose life. Choose life.
So why am I holding this knife?
It is my blanket tonight.
Here to keep me warm,
but it feels so cold.
Get out, talk to me no more.
I'm dying, lock the door.
I will remove you, if I kill you,
but will I breath? . . .No more.