I cut up my wrists like cheap coupons,
Did you know that blood is on sale today?
There's a suicide note in every dollar bill,
But only fools think that money can take the pain away.
Masochism is my new religion,
I preach the words into my skin with razor blades and blood stains
I'm getting married in this chapel.
But not to anyone you know. I am betrothed to the pain.
I'm gambling with cuts and cards up my sleeves
I've drawn my hand and I throw down my chips as the pain fades.
This casino is quickly running out of blood.
The last card I draw has no power to save me, a lousy two of spades.
Now my pockets are empty and the red stains have dried.
The life force inside is spent.
I cut up my wrists like cheap coupons, the razor slips
And the blood falls. The green paper is jagged and rough, the corners crooked and bent.