He don't feel it When he bleeds He still wants to But just sees What flows from his arms It's left for me And his problems They're not his And my problems They're not his No solace No needs But what was once intact An internal shield Set to deflect His darkened deals Has now become A flooding gate To intake Void's embrace Chaos plagues Impulse praise He wants cold and He wants pain In the eyes of his father He is a martyr In the mind of his mother He is a struggle He wants cold