Slow Recovery
Exhausted in my borrowed used up skin
Writing letters with blood upon the window
of those who wont listen cause i threw away my crayon
Imprisoned in an obsidian tower
Where i just lock myself away
The days are darker then my fiending shadow
Making sick puppetts with my hands dancing on a dirty wall
And it dont think this is ever gonna end
Performing my self
until i know longer scream for relief
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