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by Crimson Angel
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When you're attached to the feeling
of blood pouring, spilling
It's impossible to quench the flow
When you're attached to the feeling
of blades numbing, chilling
It's impossible to let go
Anything to escape the feeling
of darkness controlling, killing
And you never want to sink any lower
Anything to escape the feeling
of happiness dying, stilling
And you can't sink any lower
So drag the blade across your skin
And count this day another win


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