Death Of Me
Tattermask
Your games are a waste of time; why am I still here
When now I know you’re not what you pretend to be
I remember you weren’t there waiting for me
In my darkest of hours and you won’t see the end of me
In your castle I fall down to my knees
I surrender; forget all my pleas
I don’t care if it makes me ill
Give me what I need
My words are a waste of breath falling on deaf ears
It’s as if all I try are just feeble attempts to see
If I can free myself from all the fear
In my darkest of hours that you will be the death of me
Writhing and yearning my insides are burning
I’m trying to stay in control
I should be smarter but that makes it harder
To crawl out of this hole
Kick me… stone me… drown me
I don’t know how far I’ll go; will I soar or drown below?
Is there strength that I don’t see
Or, as I fear, will your hell be the death of me?
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