Red Marks

Out of the womb, into the sanctum of life Pass the knife, exposing my arm to groom Shades of grey colour the walls Then everything surrounding turns to black I rely on everybody to make it through the day Work for nothing, expect nothing in return Work for something, expect nothing in return She reigns over me Everyday Constantly Eternally She reigns over me Rip through the seam It's so much easier on me Rip through the seam If you proceed, then stop at nothing Rip through the seam It all makes sense to me The butter knife only leaves red marks Like the bugs of the earth I measure my own self-worth Piece by piece, I'll remove myself from the world