My Blood In Your Hands

Corpus Christi

Death it did not take me, death it did not want me 
My time to come is never, but to kill again, maybe I will be free 
Your fatal wounds can not put me down or stop my destiny 
I will arise in an hour with the gift of suffering 

In my own blood, drowning in my own agony 
Death left me alone, to heal, to fulfill my prophecy 
I am left with nothing but this "life" 
In my mind a stranger, in my gut a knife 
And death it could not take me, even though I begged 
On my knees with blood in my eyes, I could not be saved 
And I have nothing but this unwanted devoir 
This inability to die, this deadened fervor 
All was stolen by my murderer 
And that of actual value was stolen so long before 
My wounds are now healed and clean 
I will kill another until I find what should have been 
... My death, my peace, my long awaited demise 
My departure from this horrid place, the end of my cries