A/n: This is probably disturbing. Cutting, suicide, ect. Not for the weak,
I guess. I wouldn't know. I'm just the author. These are my thoughts. They
don't disturb me. Then again, I've been living with them since I was
twelve.

there are a million shadows that live in my eyes
they told me their stories and they claimed the skies
from the gods that once lived in peace, they were shot
and we left them in heaven, left them to rot
and the shadows found my hand, they took it and said
"among these people walk the ones that are dead
can you tell the difference, my precious from mud?
can you find the ones who scream in their blood?"
i could taste the pain in my mouth, on my lips
the scars on our arms, little grooves, little dips
where we've killed our souls too many ways
with blood blurs in and covers the days
and the sun that won't shine without a razor that's near
((oh, you are my precious, the one i hold dear))

and the stars and the gold and the gems that we found
won't look on our faces, we belong to the ground
below it in hell with the angels clipped wings
the prettiest angel, to us it still sings
a lullaby that will never let us cry, let us sleep
for the weak are the ones who cut too deep
and loose sight as the haze and the vision all blur
and from their body, no soul is to stir
the shadows keep it there, trapped in pain to decay
and to the suicides, all the shadows, they say:
"my precious, my weak one, i draw near, i draw near
i see your body, i know what you fear

let me in, let me in, i shant ask once more
hell draws near now, just open the door"
and i shiver, i hear them, the bells, you can too
listen, they know too much about you
and they dance in the scars where hell rests in bliss
death has had children, and no one will miss
when the belt is to good and the knife is to clean
your life is unworthy, your secrets are sheen
my precious, my precious, just let it all go
and sink down where i am, sink down below