Whisper to me, darling.
Tell me your lies.
Say you love me;
look into my eyes.
Surrealistic anguish
keeps me alive.
That light in the blackness
helps me survive.
I am my own artist,
but I paint with blood.
On my canvas of pain
I let emtions flood.
So call to me, sweetheart.
Use my name.
The agony you'll cause me?
Well, two can play that game.
The spell you have me under,
that sweet, septic tyranny.
You're killing me slowly,
and giving me no sympathy.
Now your heartless acts
drive my hostile creed.
What's left for me to do,
but sit, and cry, and bleed?
