My Blood in Your Hands - Corpus Christii

Death it did not take me, death it did not want me

My time to come is never, but to kill again, maybe I will be free

Your fatal wounds can not put me down or stop my destiny

I will arise in an hour with the gift of suffering

In my own blood, drowning in my own agony

Death left me alone, to heal, to fulfill my prophecy

I am left with nothing but this «life»

In my mind a stranger, in my gut a knife

And death it could not take me, even though I begged

On my knees with blood in my eyes, I could not be saved

And I have nothing but this unwanted devoir

This inability to die, this deadened fervor

All was stolen by my murderer

And that of actual value was stolen so long before

My wounds are now healed and clean

I will kill another until I find what should have been

… My death, my peace, my long awaited demise

My departure from this horrid place, the end of my cries