Testo: Ceremony. Along.

Tell me I don't need a blade that's razor sharp just to keep my thoughts under a lock and key.
Making bad decisions, press along while nails dig into me, scream for help but no one cares, it doesn't matter anyway.
Tell me I don't need a blade that's razor sharp just to keep my thoughts under a lock and key.
No.
Light won't carry through the room, the doors are locked, it's darkening.
Every step I take gets worse, solutions want to fail me