• There is blood on your hands with every breath that you take.
    With death at you finger tips, you do as you please.
    Because has long as you got what you want.
    The living mean less then more then your needs.
    You think of your self before you think of the others.
    Because as long as you breath, you believe they should bow to their knees.
    But when they don't play along with your games.
    You stop them with your knife when they turn away.
    One hit or two.
    You can never say.
    Because stab stab stab, is how you learned to play.