My knuckles are pale Bloody fists of memories A kind of love, dangerous I tattoo myself, to remember Who i am To be invisible Don't wanna be The person i see In empty rooms i'm nothing I hear you whisper and cry In empty rooms i'm nothing Here are no summertimes This cage is my propper place The semon of self, alone to face Walls of deception surround every head Am i still alive, or already dead? When i look in the mirror The reflection i hate 'Cause it depicts my fate of a stupid life That turned into fight In empty rooms i'm nothing I hear you whisper and cry In empty rooms i'm nothing Here are no summertimes. -Sigwulf.