There are razor blades flying about.
They prick my confidence, nick me
until I’m bleeding silver tears,
until I’m crying bloody rivers
of regret.

Thing is, I forget what this pain’s for,
and I can’t find the door. Four walls,
a ceiling and a floor. There’s no
way out and I can’t stand it
anymore.

No one left to say I’m sorry to;
I’m alone in an empty room with
no way out and no way in, nobody
to care. Screams of silence echo
in my mind.

I’ve already gone, gone, gone away,
just like they left and left their words
so sharp still slicing the air about me.
Why didn’t they just kick me?
I was down,

hurting, heartsick, only halfway here.
I needed somebody to see me, someone
to care. Too weak to lick my wounds,
I pick myself up and watch the clock,
tick tock tick.

This slashing, silent, scissor-like wind
knocks me down again, cuts me
to the quick until I’m bleeding
silver tears, crying bloody rivers
of regret.