A death of success.
nothing will amount to the weight of this mess.
Every child falls,
Blood splatters on the walls.
Killing is a new art.
Everything has to have some sort of start.
Alone in the cold wilderness,
A life built on lies.
A house filled with sin.
You are alone,
Broken,
And beyond control.
There is nothing more,
Just the thrill of the war.
I have spoken,
Exit through the door while it's still open.
Keep the soul alive.
Do not reject.
Keep the soul alive.
You are a prefect little sheep, without regret.