I open the door ,
I throw in the granate,
My shotgun ran out of bullets
Already days ago ,
I threw away the sheets and
killed the all of you,
But every morning i can still
hear you hail goodmornin
to the queen of your own house.
Trippin down the staris
Its fucking pain in the ass
your exsitence is
nothing but remains of
who we once were ,
your body lies
benethe the ground and
perfection never was
worth you.

I open the door and look around,
For the cause of getting rid
I even turned around the bed


The shadows crawl ,
over the highlights of the days ,
memories they start to dissapear
the sound of silence
Piece by piece
reincarnates the mountains,
Of the world we used to live in.
As the onceans now
are only made of blood and tears
.

Your brain flowin down the hall,
Your caged inside my heart,
your freedom vanished,
After the first bomb fell
you were gone ,
And i were left all alone
to take the fall,
from highest mountains
to have nothing left at all.
I dropped to hell.