the knife

If we were lost in a forest A place where you can't hear my screams I'd offer my body for sustenance and leave the rest of me to bleed to sleep If i got lost in a forest Like all those kids we used to know Would you send out a party to find me Or would you rather nobody know It's okay, i have my little kitchen knife to keep me warm Cut the paint from underneath the styro and reshape my form Into something that would look good while starved and rigid In an open casket And i'll sit outside during the procession and eat chips i stole from hell