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• Artiste: Sharptooth
• Titre: Blood Upon Your Hands
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Waiting for the sunlight on a night that never ends Hated by my family, rejected by my friends I’m sticking to the shadows and I’m hoping no one sees Because the only antidote I know is feeding my disease You all wanna talk But you don’t have a clue ‘Cause there’s no way to know Until Until it happens to you I’ve heard the way they whisper, say we’re broken, can’t be fixed Is that the way you’d talk to someone who is really sick? Your stigma keeps us hidden, cause you don’t understand The bottle was in mine, but there is blood upon your hands There’s blood upon your hands ‘Cause you don’t fucking understand So would you spit upon my grave and tell me that I deserved it? Would you spit upon my grave and tell me my life was worthless? You fucking spit upon their graves, you say that their lives are worthless You fucking spit upon their graves, you say that they all deserved this No, no, no No, you don’t fucking know No, no, no No, you don’t fucking know anything No, you don’t fucking know anything You keep your mouth shut