Would you be upset if I died? I could take every wish and tell it 'goodbye'. I could crush all your dreams, and fucking take a life. Would you be upset if I died? I can't feel these legs, that shall walk me to Hell, but I sure can feel this high, in which my life is on the line. And I don't know if I'll be alright, so tell me this, are you upset that I died? I thought I should ask you, as I made this decision for you, and it just wouldn't be oh so grand, if this didn't make you cry. So cry with me, dear, cry and fuck and fight. We can make this night, a jolly night, if we make this night a bloody night. We can be spoken of, and remembered, and hated, and loved, all for what? This silly thing that we all go through? Hell, my darling, isn't what you think it is. Oh, how wrong you are. You see, love, Hell isn't where you go after you die if you're bad; you go in the ground so people can walk over your piece of shit body that doesn't give a fuck. Hell is what this night of yours shall be. You'll bleed in agony, and cry for mercy. For you see, I no longer need this fake sense of security you gave me, you fucking whore. And while I bring upon your doom, I'll ask you how Hell is. And then, dear, you'll be upset.
