... 'cause I've got razor blades
and OTC meds
and hardcore Satanic metal-heads.
So everything can really, just fuck off and die.

If all the lies became true.
And all the truths became you.
Where would be you?

Pain for passion.
But the passion lacks the true.
Its heartless, ungrateful and hateful
But I must say,
I'm so fucking sick of you.

If all the lies became true.
And all the truths became you.
Where would be you?

Pure. Fucking. Hate.

I'm aliving dead moving through a pause in time, thinking unconcious speech that's teaching me how to learn to others. Reading old words with new meaning. Hearing the same music that I've never heard before. Opening my eyes that have already been open. Being something new that I've always been. At peace with war. Fusing faith, knowledge, reality, spirituality together into something what they already are but have to be because if they weren't that you'd never understand which you can't understand which you won't understand unless you do understand then you want to understand then you know you might be able to grasp the very concept that you've just lost. So don't even bother reading the rest. Read the rest of this. Don't read the rest of this. It might just be a trick for your mind to teach me to teach you about faith. Knowledge is underated but not overused. Overdosed might kill you, but might save you. Nails in the cross. Knowing that my hand bleeds.