So you got me all figured out
Got me standing in the corner with your finger out
I play along, play along for now
But I know something you don't know
I got your disease
I got your disease
Never wanted a part of it but now I'm down on my knees
Maybe eyes are meant for crying after all
And maybe hands were made to crawl

Silence so deafening
I can hear my heart beating
I'll never be the same

No!
Die!
No!
Die!
Die!
Die!

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): ERIC WHITNEY, NOLAN NUNES