The man has pseudo-friends who constantly criticize his actions. They moralize him, "teach" him and advise him to make a significant change in his life, because the way he is and what he does is not what they say it should be. They may find his life lame or immoral. They hold themselves up as role models. The man replies that he will make his own choices and decisions and he does not agree to unconditionally make himself under the influence of questionable quality advice. He justifies this by saying that there is always someone for whom he will be important, no matter what he does and no matter what he is. Although it is not said directly, I read it as meaning that he will always be important to himself in every way and he will always have his own support.
"Everyone is different and maybe that's a good thing, but you exceeded that mark 1000 times" - I remember very well how sad the words I once heard (from my peers and it was in negative context) at school made me feel.
Beams of fire sweep through my head
Thrusts of pain increasingly engaged
Sensory receptors succumb
I'm no one now, only agony
My crimson liquid so frantically spilled
The ruby fluid of life unleashed
Ripples ascend to the surface of my eyes
Their red pens drawing at random, at will
A myriad pains begotten in their wake
The bastard spawn of a mutinous self
The regurgitation of my micro nemesis
Salivating red at the prospect of my ruin, my doom
Malfunction the means for its ascent
Bloodletting the stringent voice to beckon my soul
So futile, any resisting tension
As death-induced mechanics propel its growth
The implement, the device of my extinction
The terminating clockwork of my gleeful bane
The definitive scourge of its mockery
The end-art instruments, lethality attained
Heed, it commands, heed my will
Bleed, it says, bleed you will
Falling into the clarity of undoing
Scornful gods haggle for my soul
Minds eye flickers and vellicates as I let go
Taunting whispers accompany my deletion
A sneering grin, the voice of my reaper
Chanting softly the song of depletion
Thrusts of pain increasingly engaged
Sensory receptors succumb
I'm no one now, only agony
My crimson liquid so frantically spilled
The ruby fluid of life unleashed
Ripples ascend to the surface of my eyes
Their red pens drawing at random, at will
A myriad pains begotten in their wake
The bastard spawn of a mutinous self
The regurgitation of my micro nemesis
Salivating red at the prospect of my ruin, my doom
Malfunction the means for its ascent
Bloodletting the stringent voice to beckon my soul
So futile, any resisting tension
As death-induced mechanics propel its growth
The implement, the device of my extinction
The terminating clockwork of my gleeful bane
The definitive scourge of its mockery
The end-art instruments, lethality attained
Heed, it commands, heed my will
Bleed, it says, bleed you will
Falling into the clarity of undoing
Scornful gods haggle for my soul
Minds eye flickers and vellicates as I let go
Taunting whispers accompany my deletion
A sneering grin, the voice of my reaper
Chanting softly the song of depletion
Lyrics submitted by nufy8, edited by Thefalloftheheretic
Bleed Lyrics as written by Jens Kidman Fredrik Thordendal
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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The line "Their red pens drawing at random, at will", just reminds me of someone dieing and someone in the room almost taking notes. Ironic that its in red ink and ya. Still trying to figure out exactly what the song is about.