My blood is black, but so's my soul.
I'm not worth love, or so I'm told.
But that's okay, I'm used to pain.
I'm not a person, just a name.
My blood is black, I'm all alone.
I've never known a place called home.
But that's okay, it really is.
I know how to handle this.
My blood is black, just like my light.
A creeping, stretching, endless night.
Please make me hurt, embrace the madness,
Erase all this smothering sadness.
My blood is black, as is my life.
I can handle hurt, handle strife.
It's the new I fear, comfort strange,
I prefer how I am, prefer the pain.
Please kick me, slap me, for what I lack.
This is who I am, my blood is black.