you know life’s a funny thing

but it’s really just a bitch

so i salt another wound

just to satisfy the itch

and these cuts become scars

with a line for every line

buried in the past

no way to tell if it hurts

bleed out of my misery

invoke my wrath on my own self

to make you hurt

and there’s something in the way

if i ever find the message

is it for you or for me

what can you promise me

that doesn’t leave, love, or lie

i couldn’t imagine

that one is just too many

when a dozen’s just a few

i watch you waste away

if i take my own hand

and i turn it against myself

does that mean i have free will

or am i just a fucking pawn

i don’t think i have a fucking chance

that’s how it is on this bitch of an earth

what are you waiting for

it’s your move