Later

Later

The river of tears runs over the knife
It grates and creates my rusty life
I’ll cry now, and kill you later
The pain will wane and I’ll feel better.

Crying blood to heal the wound for thee
It cakes and makes it hell for me
It’s better to keep me to myself
If things worsen when I try to help.

Oppositions mesh, but not for long
They slide and collide and things go wrong
When you salt the wound, the pain is greater
I’ll cry now, and kill you later.