It's that itch,
That damned itch again.
The itch that tells me why i'm really going through with it,
The itch that gets my ass in gear,
Those bullets pack a nastey bite,
And there's no other reason that i'm still alive out here,
other than fear.
The feeling creeps now,
Tingling and rendering
Me lost in my mind.
But bullets and blood
Couldn't kill my God,
At least they might not,
I am afraid,
I'm lost in myself every time they draw near,
But i'm still disgusted with myself,
Because everytime I look into the mirror,
I see nothing but fear.