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Street Sects
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Black Din
It all started by questioning our worth
A dream shattered by doubt
I ended one life to start another
But I couldn't accept the ending
We're all the same kind of murderers here
Killing our better selves, nurturing fear
Getting off on the pain
A heart full of need
A lust for death
Anaesthetized but still aware
That I might swallow my tongue
And if I get too numb to care
Then I will eat my gun
We're all the same kind of murderers here
Cheating on suicide
Until we miss her and want her again
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She may not forgive, but she gives in
A black din
Home again
I dug my grave around ten years back
I often go there to relax
Lying there the noise fades away
One of these days I'll just stay
And sleep
But not today
Not until I see the ending
There's always at least one piece of shit
Who wants nothing more than to see you fail
Death is a release from all their resentment
But life is a wire around their throat
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