The blood moon flies high in the midnight sky.
It looks down on a world where people die.
In this world you can't be both happy and have love.
Some people just are luckier than others, like a perfect fitting glove.
People are all happy and loved that they glow with it.
Perfect happiness is a myth, and it rips at the sprit.
The world is a cruel place, but sometimes things work.
Sometimes it doesn't and people kill themselves like a twerp.
Everything has an end.
You just have to comprehend.
As tears flow like a river, pain shoots through the heart.
Everyone hears Cupids harp.
I listen for it, and when I hear it... I follow it to the source.
I cut it down without any remorse.
Love is dead, and everything is going to burn.