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"The intention is clear, I stare... with this left hand,
unable to be worded
Every time I bleed, there lies the reason to live... And I
discover words being so vivid and bright
Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand,
it will only be known as flowers of vanity
The final
One by one it multiplies... why be a sad bait?
Deep within the hell of my heart... I can't go back
A self-torture loser, not being able to see tomorrow
Suicide is the proof of life
Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand,
the petals will only scatter as flowers of vanity
So I can't live
What's lost can't be born again
A song that's not even seeking the proof of living
Let's put an end... The Final
Let's bloom flowers of attempted suicide. ."
Hey, me sitting here, and you sitting there, both staring at a screen.
Somebody just needs to stand up and put a pickaxe through it, its begging for it
Come enter my world, see what I've lived
Have fun finding your way back.Fuck the haters
Fuck the posers
I don't need your shit
So go eat a fucking curb