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Have you ever known what it's like?
To feel your skin start to peel?
The chilling cold scrapping at your face?
Can you even understand the warmth bleeding from inside?

Flip it inside out, and speak into the mic.
Poetry belonging to an empty soul, it's what I feel.
The missing feeling, no doubt, no warm embrace.
No, it's not hope, not joy, it's not even pride.
It's starting to feel a little bit colder inside.

Take a look, why don't you see?
My heart, my heart, it's killing me!
Hold my breath, and pray not to breathe.
I have no hope, no joy, nope, not a pinch of pride.
It's getting even colder inside.

Follow down the vocals, words that were never meant to be.
My heart, my heart, that's what's freezing me!
The good dreams break out from my lips, and flee.
This icy cold feeling, seeping, and weeping, words to deny.
My heart is frozen deep inside.

No, not even the Seraphims would hear my pleas.
The demons, the dark shadows, they rebuke my screams.
A frozen heart, a wicked soul.
Has no place, above or below.