Weak Child 
Cries Never Heard 
Deep Pain 
The Kind That's Easily Ignored 

Can't get my thoughts across to tell you 
Torture intensifying inside 
Dense liquid pain fills my prison cell 
This overflow's my personal [bad word] 

Institutions 
Forever Haunting 
As the sword [bad word] through my chest 
I direct, inject for pleasure 

Don't know why self immolation 
Tempts me, it's something I can't explain 
As I step out to the edge 
This overflow's up to my head 

The [bad word] dressed 
In a lavish winter gown 
Laced with the rays of the sun 
Shined with the glaze of the moon 
Taketh hand in hand 
Escort the fluid to your land 
My pleasure awaits temporary escape 
My cell will fill once again 
But until then