she always felt so cold, in her white walled hospital room. she said āi need a bit of warmth, so i can use the reds to fight my bluesā. i promised her iād find a way to change the lack of colour where she hurts. and while she donāt care much for me, iād bleed and bruise and i would kill for her. i watched her fall in love with that bastard who dont give a damn. to him shes one of many, and āongoingā one night stand. sheās still cold. so i followed him, pulled out my knife. i stabbed that motherfucker in the throat until he died and i wiped his blood across my lips. you dont know love until youāve tasted it. shivering she cried āi hope heās fineā, i painted her room in warm blood red lies. and she aint cold. thereās colour on every wall. she dont care much for me, and i dont care at all.