All my flesh is disappearing All my bones stick to my skin My veine are an infinite flow of pain and suffering Like a puppet, I'm dead inside Sometimes, I buy a smile To forget I'll soon be dead. To hold my own head on my thin neck make me bleed What are you saying? I'm not mad! What do you mean? Yes I'm fine! Do you love me? Oh, I loathe myself! And no one else can feel my distress That's all, my movements are becoming a macabre dance And my heart a dry rock