Mystery is his vice and virtue
To his dreams he is true
He lives his life for yesterdaynot caring for tomorrow
The hurt and pain won't go away
He lives for his sorrow
Step by step in this lifeall he looks for is some strife

All he wants is to kill
All love and joy at his will
All life he can make be stilland then he can be happy

Pain that is a wound on his face
Twisting him in a deep place
He is tragic in black and white
Wearing his anger for all to see
Never giving up the fight
Wanting all the world to be as sad and lonely as he feels
The ugliness will never heal

All he needs is some death today
All enemies taken away
All victims of his apathy and then he can be happy

His innocence was taken from him
Used and thrown in the bin
Now he fucks each one the same no caring who he hurts
Their souls, their hearts, their brains
Just another pice of skirt
Not one will ever bethat one he wants to see

All he has is his sadness
All he wants is some gladness
All he shares is his badness and then he can be happy

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