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Hate the day time, and the boredom,
And the hours left to kill,
And the pain you feel inside,
Scoops a hole for him to fill,

Whisper secrets over sunsets,
Promise you will never tell,
Pretty lies, dainty deceptions,
You never felt so well,

A beautiful mind,
But he’s sick in the head,
You imagine his touch,
He imagines you dead,
In his eyes there’s something wrong,
Sense the danger, crave the thrill,
Cut the cord, you’re too far gone,
Just slowly losing will,

Dazzles you with words,
Leaves you lost in a daze,
Cos you always were a sucker,
For a witty turn of phrase,

Gives you poppies in the evening,
Loves them best because they bring,
The things you both are craving,
Sleep for you and blood for him,

Sink into it easy,
The opiate of his hold,
Like a knife through butter or skin,
You know he prefers them cold,

A beautiful mind,
But he’s sick in the head,
You imagine his touch,
He imagines you dead,
In his eyes there’s something wrong,
Sense the danger, crave the thrill,
Cut the cord, you’re too far gone,
Just slowly losing will,

Knows your weakness, knows your movements,
A master of the maze,
Watch you dreaming in the darkness,
He’s been lying there for days,

You can taste it on his lips,
See it hidden in his smile,
Know the truth, yet still embrace it,
That boy will bleed you dry,

Sunrise brings him closer,
Runs his fingers through your hair,
Breathes so softly “it’s your time now”,
And you haven’t got a prayer.

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