With a smile in the face With tears running A knife on the wrist
The voice I belive A lie giggles Morbid victim

Looking at and crying Red liquid Running trough and vessel
Unable to cut off even this life Morbid victim

Let this wound be deeper deeper deeper coloring this white room red

The victim had no tongue

No lights Closed One morning of twelve-year-old
I tend to be A vegetarian Kitten tend to be rare

Father Mother Let this wound be deeper deeper deepercoloring red

Bound In a crowd Feeling isolation Could do nothing
Tomorrow will not Come again Night of sixteen-year-old
Afraid of the night The night is cold A crowd of nights Drowned in the night
Tomorrow will not Come again Spring of sixteen-year-old
Be quiet Close eyes Thinking about the face of Mother and Father
Even how many times I laugh I cry ever comes back
Good-bye to the cold night of tears dried-up Slashing the wrist
Tomorrow will not Come again Spring of sixteen-year-old