Biohazard

I sit and pick my brain each night
With an axe in my hand held tight
Bity my nose to spite my face
Killing myself, I can't escape the rat race
Wallowing in neck-deep misery
Quicksand dissent, pressure free
Deepest wounds are self inflicted
Should I hope to be vincited
Always alone, society's abortion
Self mutilation, the daily partion
Resentful past breeds hopeful future
With tears of blood, I remove the sutures
Dying inside, emotions they hide
Irreperable damage from the tears that I've cried
I climb from the sewer, the years that I have
spent
Self mutilation or my environment
Chorus 2x:
Tears of Blood, Tears of Blood
I cry, I cry
Tears of Blood, Tears of Blood
I die
Deny myself for fear of being