Hands:

Dirty, bloody, sticky again
I wash my hands, but I can't get the guilty feeling off
No memories of last night, nothing in my head
What have I done, and what for?

I search my pockets, find a bloody knife
I do things I dont remember, I think I am cursed
Why me? God, why?
I hear voices from the back of the hearse
I hear someone cryin'
Sounds of people dying
But I cant remember hurting anyone
Oh, what have i done?

I light a match, throw it on my bed
Time to take my very last rest
I breathe in, jump in the flames
Fire will clean my hands, and burn the demon in my brain...

done...