Cut The Flesh — Dark Age

My razors are trained to mark a surface Every time I fall it forces me to punish my skin Remorse has proved to be a sadist And I don't care at all if people see the shape I am in

Day by Day another conflict causes to cut the flesh And if these wounds fail to show the truth I got to cut even deeper

The scars are true art of expression Signs of tragedy With no doubt sick -but keeping alive My way to let out all aggression A different therapy Possible with the blade of a knife

But I can't find my soul . . .