She keeps a bag o leather underneath her bed
I only see what's inside when the moon is red
And once her father leaves, I'll be her daddy instead
It's just a matter of taste
She thinks it's fun
When blood is shed
When blood is shed
You justify
My suicide
You keep a knife tucked in your hair
And cut me open till' I beg
You justify
My suicide
You keep a knife tucked in your hair
And cut me up like I'm not there
Hit me up when you're drunk
We both know it's fun
When your friends say it's wrong
I'll be there like a gun
180 it ain't much
But I don't want it to end
I'm gonna' give it right back to your brother
When blood is shed
When blood is shed
You justify
My suicide
You keep a knife tucked in your hair
And cut me open till' I beg
You justify
My suicide
You keep a knife tucked in your hair
And cut me up like I'm not there