tonite we sail the crimson river to death to the death that awaits us us and our unworthy, regected bodies for which life demands perfection but we scar with our obsession we sail in spite of the who enslave us the people who hurt and destroy us and yet we hurt ourselves over their words their words of hate and neglection for which changes us in every way in every way we change ourselves everytime we pick up our blade the blade that serves as our ship the ship in which we sail to death but we are not dead yet and nor will we be soon so put your blade to rest as we sail the crimson river to death