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Guts and glory takes no winner,
so maybe i'll kill to be a sinner,
sharpened knifes a blades galore,
a tainted rose a saint no more.

valleys and hills in a place called hell,
nothing to do but stare and dwell,
dwell in the future dwell in the past,
never to sure, how long the feeling will last.

The feeling of guilt and hellish pain,
shrieking of silence through ones brain,
what happens if i just end it all?
my head tells me no, but angels call.

My life would be over;
there would be no more silence,
no more dwell, no more pain,
no more hell.