I always believed, that before you die, you should know exactly what your last words would be. I, fortunately or unfortunately, have not thought of mine yet.
Ending Theme
By: Ren
Counting ceilings on the walls;
I see your eyes turn sharp as knives.
Turning the doorknob to a web of lies;
The cold fear bites the sky.
Beaten, Broken, Torn and Taken;
Where will this last will lie?
The paper doll says that time has come;
And you wish to burn her to the floor.
Can you turn away from truth;
When the lie attacks your back?
Vomiting your hate and rage;
Then can you possibly love?
You lie awake and hope for tomorrow;
When tonight is the brightest it can be.
Do you know that I wish for your return;
With every time I see the sky?
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"The man who smiles when he is wrong has found someone else to blame his problem on."
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