Shadows in the knife call me to

Stab, cut, Stab.

They sing their wicked words of sin.

Stab, cut, Stab.

Blood on the needles ask me to

Stab, cut, Stab.

I look back at them then sigh but don't

Stab, cut, Stab.

The pain I feel without the scabs still

Stabs, cuts, stabs.

And the more and more I think about it makes me

Stab, cut, Stab.