Every time you cry, a little piece of me dies. Tearing 
out my heart and soul, it's too much more not to try. I 
could fuck you to death but the blood takes too long to 
dry. No point in your last breath, you're dead already 
inside. But every time you cry, a little piece of me 
dies. Nothing really new for you but it's too much more 
not to try. I still love you today but I don't really 
know why. I never got any truth from you. I guess I'll 
live with your lies.