I shot the prom queen
I shot her dead
A sick prologue
of the drama I provoked
My execution
a gentle torture
to ease your pain
as I cross the river

Make me bleed
Make it hard
Torture me
Justify the unjustified
Execute
Bring it on
Silence me
Justify what can’t be justified

Memoirs of a murderer
What was I thinking?
What are you thinking?
Murder born of murder
What was I thinking?
What are you thinking?

This is it
Turn it on
I must die
Tie me up to the electric chair
This is it
Turn it on
Watch me die
Put some fire in my eyes

What the hell do you think of when you turn on that switch
When you watch the empty chair?
I am walking my last mile back to hell where I belong
with her blood still on my hands
I will never bleed enough to satisfy your lust
Your vengeful heart still hurts
You can not kill me because the memory remains
Because the silence leaves a scar.
Look at you now
Can you still sleep at night?

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