You made this life,
It should mean something
but it doesn't--
Just another conscience you can murder.
Your voice says "Don't worry, it's for the best"
while your eyes speak the truth--
They know that any problem can be solved with enough money...
But how can it be?
I'm taking away the only thing I have left of you.
Once that's gone you will no longer exist to me,
or, maybe it should be the other way around,
I won't exist to you.
You loved in vain--
As soon as you got your nourishment you took away that love,
although, it was never there to begin with.
It was just something that looked glamorous enough to be believed.
Now I know that killing is a game for you;
Make what you feel
and take away all you don't need.