Masochistic Melancholy

What is it about the blood
The makes us feel alive inside
The pain which we cause that gives us hope
And the fear that never dies

Discovery means that we're psychotic
Yet we know we're sane
They claim it's all for attention
So why then do we hide?

They've never been in our footsteps
They've never known our cult
Yet they proceed on like they know all
Never giving us a second thought

Look inside our hearts and souls
See the torment, the hurricane we struggle through
Every day the outcasted die
And when you see, you push us aside

So ignored we try to be
Sharing our secrets only with the truth
Living under the masochistic melancholy
Which consumed our lives