the end of a frail rope, by lost the lonely dead
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I sense disturbing vibes of sinister character
I choose to take hold doubtfully unsure
Desperately damning the whipping boy; disbelieving
Wishing for the chance to shake you to the core
Enforcing beliefs of someones religion on us all
Quietly, secretly plotting my own demise
Finding myself slipping behind
Not even a shadow to roam
We romance with sin, yet pleading innocence
Unable to shake the images away
Burning all my imaginary photographs
In love but not with this illness
All the sameness creeps in around
Finally killing this soul piece by piece
My hands drip red what can i say?
Turned off with all the lies
I watch my failure unfold just as i hoped
Yet the ground seems to hold these feet on uncertain soil
Words get around but they dont belong to me anymore
Can you will you forgive?
Never really learned to love
I walked off and sold my compass for cheap entertainment
I beat the hell out of everything
Tears made of bone pound out the pain
the rythmic pattern of sorrow's unspoken words |
Posted: 2006-10-05 04:57:41 UTC |
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