im without your love/just with your hand
and flesh wont do/when ive no blood
so i lay on red/ to meet demands
.
and you slam my door/but what for
you left in the beginning my friend
so why try to create an end?
but the thought is what counts
count...0...1...2...
.
made me so common
i was the lines on your shirt/and in your face
creating/debating an end
list the cons/because no one, not no one can take my place
.
you always were the grim reaper
cept death at his expecnse/was a whole lot cheaper
then the thought (0) that (1) counts (2)...
counting to a wit/tits in a kit/ is no task
.
seni seviyogrum was my end
and youre not around, why fake a friend?
my friend close the door and dont ask what for
get out by 3...count 0, 1, 2...