There’s red paint running down the walls, 

And you feel about three inches tall. 

Cause everything you know is falling apart, 

You can’t understand, what’s wrong with your heart. 

And the Angles are crying, 

While the Demons are cheering. 

You’re hanging on by a thread, 

Fighting for your life. 

Hoping, Praying, 

You win tonight. 

They’ve picked their sides, 

Just waiting for you to pick yours. 

While you run the blade across your skin, 

Behind closed locked doors. 

You’re crying, 

You’re bawling. 

The tears mixing with the blood, 

Waiting for a reason to rise above. 

And the Angels are crying, 

While the Demons are cheering. 

For they know which side you’ve picked, 

Before you’ve even fully lost.