Romantic Self-Destruction

Pierce my skin, tear my flesh

Tell me that I feel the best

Behold that it comes so quick

Razor rites give me a kick

It's not called fate, guilt copulate

Not inane, dig the pain

First I pick up the phone

Security calls, no one's home

Then I pick up the gun

Security calls, just for fun

I've got those S.D. blues

Got nothing to lose but all I choose.