The trenches in my skin is where the Rotting past begins.nAnd you're the reason.nThe paths will never end,nUntil you lie in the vows of death.nWhen the curse of the cause will Conclude and my spirit can rest.nTo your burdened ghost I will be deaf.nI won't hear your cries,nNot beyond the cold casket door I lay Behind.nnAll the dozen car pile-ups you forced Me to see. Can never accumulate to The fucking tragedy staring back at me In the mirror. But since you've left my Reflection has been clear.nnNow that your fog is gone, nThe scars have begun to fade.nI can still faintly hear your twisted Games: Lets play Russian Roulette With a twist, nInstead of one lets put in six.nBut I've got a new chamber,nWith new bullets too.nNow you're the bomb that hates to tick.nCause I'm lying nicely underneath,nWatching your blood harden from the Concrete.nnAll the dozen car pile-ups you forced Me to see. Can never accumulate to The fucking tragedy staring back at me In the mirror. But since you've left my Reflection has been clear.