The Masochist

i watch the blood run down

from my twisted little hands.

i love it when the razor digs in

and it mixes with water and the sand.

i've bled myself dry,
these words are true...
why can't you see,
i'm forsaken like you?

you know you can't feel,
it's not because i'm dumb,
time won't leave me alone,
and i've become this numb...


but oh, i love my veins,
when they're throbbing with life.
i don't need 10,000 spoons
just hand me that knife...

and i love my blood,
running down my hand.
so warm yet so cold,
i know you wouldn't understand...