Texty: Euphoria's Depression. Other. The Epitome Of Cold.

She came wrapped up like a christmas gift. So delicately put together with all its folded corners and golden bows. Only to get ripped apart in the end. Oh, I love christmas. The world warms for a day, even if it's just for a day.

There is nothing warm about her. She is the epitome of cold.

I liked her hidden behind the beautifully deceitful wrapping paper because I couldn't see her true colours. Now, the paper is torn and we will never be the same.

There is nothing warm about her. She is the epitome of cold.

She was the package... of anthrax... that eventually killed me.

I seem unaffected, I'm not. You seem unaffected, you are.

There is nothing warm about her, yeah. She is the epitome of cold