Lyrics I've written

Pain

Long sleeves are his new armor
His secret is that he's a self harmer
He loves it when the blade presses up against his skin
He loves the blood running down and feels no more sin

We're all broken toys
Stripped of our joy
We cut to feel better
But we still feel under the weather
So what's the point of trying?
We should all be dying
Instead of breathing and bleeding

Starving herself is her new trick
Her secret is that she's sick and anorexic
She loves it when she sees her bones through her flesh
She loves the scale reading 100, it makes her feel the best

We're all broken toys
Stripped of our joy
We cut to feel better
But we still feel under the weather
So what's the point of trying?
We should all be dying
Instead of breathing and bleeding

He hides in alleyways and collects his cocaine
He goes home, snorts it up, and feels no more pain
But he doesn't have enough money to pay the rent
He washed it all away to drugs but doesn't care that it's spent
So what if he's becoming poor, as long as he gets his drugs
And if he can please his dealer and buy his only love

We're all broken toys
Stripped of our joy
We cut to feel better
But we still feel under the weather
So what's the point of trying?
We should all be dying
Instead of breathing and bleeding

We may all be broken toys
And be stripped of our joy
And cut to feel better
And still feel under the weather
But we should keep on trying
To be smiling
We shouldn't all be dying
We should be living
I rather be breathing and bleeding and crying
Than to be dying
So throw away your knives and blades
Throw away your scales and cocaine
You can find love in something other than pain
You can look at me and call me insane
But take my hand and I'll wash away the stain
I'll take away the pain