Текст: My Bitter End. Dirt Helmet.

Few will escape the sleep that swells there lungs. Consider youself fortunate for the rest.
Dirt helmet silence is held high in regards of the troubled.
Sleep easy under this illusion that your dreaming and waking is merely a thing of fact.
While your sleeping I'm plotting a way to end this night.
I'll shout down the moon and keep the sun at bay.
Four chimes and an empty bed remind me I'm still here.
Don't sleep. Here silence is revered and held holy, quiet enough to hear my blood hit the ground like razors through my veins.
Sleep in. This rest we dream forever.
Remember the day we never lived.
Dispatched sunshine to a darkened fate, a darkened fate, a darkened fate.
Some of us were meant to hurt.
Without the light of day to remind us all of the breath we struggle so hard to find.
As every shallow breath escapes few and far between, I find myself just praying for the courage to drag the jagged glass across our wrists and necks.
Some of us were meant to hurt.
Discover a new way of dying, everyday constantly dying.
Five chimes and a blood soaked bed reminds me it's time to go.
Disgust is a bitter taste that coats this tongue as I rip it from my mouth,
there will be no screaming tonight just a silent goodbye and a note on the mirror.
Sleep. This is for the hopeless, the lonesome.
Somewhere, there's a bed for us all.
This is my escape, it's not the right choice but it's mine.
It's mine.
I just can't stand the thought of another sunrise with no eyes, don't sleep.
Don't sleep