Besedila: Whiplash. Thrashback. This.

:
Release, I grant you permission
Immerse, submerse, submerge and rise
Emerge to snatch one's last breath
Hydra-lung will deaden the cries
It is time to make the transition
You were never one to abide
Absurdly ignored premonition
Now let the struggle subside

This - the knife that has skewered my heart
This - the flowing river of blood
This - the morbid thought in my head
This - the crimson stain in my bed

My heart bleeds for your confession
The truth, the youth, a kiss goodbye
To covet the lasting impression
The river's slaughter swallows your pride
The current consumes the almighty
I must confess the tide will soon rise
Drowning your thoughts of escape
How foolish of you to surmise

This - the knife that has skewered my heart
This - the flowing river of blood
This - the morbid thought in my head
This - the crimson stain in my bed
This thing that crawls from inside me
Expanding, stretching my sanity
This - way things have to turn out to be
There's no sun, left in your eyes to see...