Every single night I fear,
That you won't be here,
In the morning when it comes
When the twighlight turns to dust,
And the angels begin to rust.
I can hear your cries,
Your only lover dies,
And I feel no regret for you.
I have a dying lonely heart,
Massacares my only art,
The pain that I do inflict,
Are like the cuts in your throat,
Love is nothing but remote.
Heroism is a pain,
Figure it's main,
And I have no remorse.
Captured in my fucking breath,
Whisper quietly for death,
Before the morning comes,
And your dead without a soul,
Not to love me takes it toll.
Grains of violence,
Drip from silence,
Like the blood in my hands,
the blood in my hands,
the blood in my hands,
the blood in my hands.
Every single night I feared,
That you wouldn't be here,
In the morning when it came
When the twighlight turned to dust,
And the angels began to lust.