Silently waiting,
Waiting at my door
I see your shadow growing,
Underneath the door
I wonder what you're thinking,
Your whispers I ignore
I feel my life is slipping,
To you, more and more
Grabbing for anything,
To throw it at the door
My nails are torn and bleeding,
From scratching on the floor
To think that you're just working,
Your job I do abhor
To think that I was thinking,
That you were just folklore
But now my hands are clinging,
Clinging to the door
It's your death that I'm plotting,
I'll get you at your core
With my light I'm winning,
It's brighter than before
Now it's you that's dying,
Die you little whore
Die death, die,
You're just a little whore