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These concrette walls are my home,
it's my domain here that I roam.
I have a small cell that I call my room
It's a room full of evil, death and gloom.
I see images of dead people here,
I communicate with them, without fear.
They tell me all I need to know,
and mention to me "Time's up, it's time to go".
I hold out my arm and a razor appears,
it slashes my wrist and I hold back the tears.
A slight sense of pain, and all goes numb,
I knew now that my journey has begun.
Into the darkness, I am falling,
All I can hear is Satan himself calling.
He calls our "It's not you Brad, just everyone else"'
He opens a door and invites me into his house.
Home
