I'm bleeding out,

I'm bleeding out.

Blood does not define me.

Blood is not who I am.

Sometimes I feel as though nothing will ever go right.

But I think to myself,

Why does blood define a person and they're family?

I'm bleeding out,

I'm bleeding out.

Blood is not who I am.

I am me and you are you.

I'm bleeding out,

I'm bleeding out.

I have unanswered questions.

I have unintentional thoughts.

I have nothing to fight for,

Nothing to live for.

I'm bleeding out,

I'm bleeding out.

There is blood on my hands.

Blood I cannot explain.

Blood is here and over there,

Blood is everywhere.

Blood is on my hands and I scream out,

"Help, there is blood on my hands!"

But I am not answered,

I am not accompanied,

I am alone and bleeding.

The bleeding does not stop.

It will never stop.

I'm bleeding out,

I'm bleeding out.

Help, I think.