Burn, Baby, Burn.
Bleed, Baby, Bleed.
There are very few people,
that I really need.

Put a gun to the head,
pull the trigger,
now he's dead.
He's gone, and only some care,
While he bleeds and still his heart pumps the air.

Fall into a hole that never really ends.
You wish it did,
You hope it does,
But you always continue to fall.

Some people can care less,
whether you live or die,
But the few you love,
and the few that love you,
will hold there heads in hands and cry.

As you die,
and watch the sun set,
make sure to think of those,
that you will NEVER forget.
 
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