I remember, fateful strangers,

With good intentions.

Misdirection.

Expectations; now they'll be waiting,

For explanations,

For our behaviour.

When there's no questions,

There will be no answers.

But with desperate pressures,

Come desperate measures.

It's over.

I feel your hands around me now.

It's over.

Now times are changing,

All my senses failing.

I wretch just thinking,

Of how you betrayed me.

It stinks like poison.

The knife's been twisted.

My blood's escaping,

These wounds you gave me.

It's over.

I feel your hands around me now.

It's over.