Do you want to see a light burn out, hand me a knife
Set me on a table, grab each side and rip apart
I feel much more alive when the pulse inside me is mechanical
Emotion is a byproduct of weakness
Pain is an art, one hundred shades of red spread across the floor
Your eyes could put air back into these lungs, but my dreams have never come true
Tomorrow there is no waking up
That face is to die for
I feel so much more alive when you are not