I am glad that you cut your wings
just before the huricane
And I'm glad that you full of hate,
empty of what you won't gain
And I'm glad that you fuck things up,
screw it up, up to you
And I'm glad that you're mackin' up,
fakin' up your own truth

Down on your knees
Spread your water tears
Floating on the pain
Going out of sane

I am glad that you ran away
from yourself and lost
And I'm glad that your presence
here turning to be ghost
And I'm glad that you had the choise
and now you're going nuts
And I'm glad that you have the gun
but do not have the gutts

Never fall in too
Denying pretend to
Wasted in nowhere
This wound won't recover