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Dead Inside

de Type O Negative

Seems three years,
Though maybe four
Someone drops dead
Whom I adore
You love someone
There will be grief
The kiss of death
Lips of a thief

Goddamn it

A dusty stack of photographs
Of times I've cried
But mostly laughed
Commit the past
Into blue flame
Acrid smoke
Cowardly shame

At times I'm truly terrified
'Cause dope and booze
don't help to hide
They're used to mask
A weakling's hurt
It's just like painting over dirt

Everyone I love is dead
(ha-ha)

Life's a game I cannot win
Both good and bad
Most surely end
The mirrors
Always tell the truth
I love myself
for hating you

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