Red Marks
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Out of the womb, into the sanctum of life
Pass the knife, exposing my arm to groom
Shades of grey colour the walls
Then everything surrounding turns to black
I rely on everybody to make it through the day
Work for nothing, expect nothing in return
Work for something, expect nothing in return
She reigns over me
Everyday
Constantly
Eternally
She reigns over me
Rip through the seam
It's so much easier on me
Rip through the seam
If you proceed, then stop at nothing
Rip through the seam
It all makes sense to me
The butter knife only leaves red marks
Like the bugs of the earth
I measure my own self-worth
Piece by piece, I'll remove myself from the world