He sees your sorrow and feels an immoral joy.
Your heart has been borrowed by a baleful boy.
Your love for him is the pleasure in his plight.
He tells you to feel peace but you need to fight.
His pleasure comes from those who feel pain.
He shows no life except when you die in vain.
As lost as a forgotten dog he is sand on the plain.
A brush of his skin and you have him in your brain.

You want to forget about him but he’s everything.
He forces himself in your life you are better for not noticing.
You aren’t allowed to think; These thoughts will make you sink.
You skin is tough but you will rust; Time will come and you’ll bust.
His pleasure comes from those who feel pain.
He shows no life except when you die in vain.
As lost as a forgotten dog he is sand on the plain.
A brush of his skin and you have him in your brain.
He knows your secrets, what keeps you up at night.
Your minds the enemy always afraid of the light.
You were the deathly silent and he was the roaring fight.
With a heart made of glass he made you shatter too fast.
In an instant your love thrown in the fire turned to ash.
His pleasure comes from those who feel pain.
He shows no life except when you die in vain.
As lost as a forgotten dog he is sand on the plain.
A brush of his skin and you have him in your brain.