Suffering becomes so overwhelming. Wicked is the beauty of a sudden death.

There's a heart, in a fiend who gets sick off meth.
Tell me, is there any beauty when he realizes theres still some left?

Beautiful is a kiss, even though it smells like smoker's breath.

I get so depressed.
I've got to find some beauty in this f*cking mess.

And I must confess, I think its lovely when they don't accept my friend requests.
Because, I find there's more in less.
Beauty is just a test.
To lose everything but life, and still see that you've been blessed.

In my right to remain silent, when I'm under arrest.
That was were I found the beauty in theft.


A beauty in distruction. How a disease can infest.
Have to get rid of some, to make room for the rest.
We say we don't want it to spread it. But, we don't do our best.

Because, suffering is hard. And, there's beauty in a sudden death.