Who Breeds a Wicked Son?, by Loneliness is condescending
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Murdering in daylight the ones he so gently put to sleep
Leading the masses from the shadows where he prays
Staring down that defiant soul in the bathroom mirror
Rising up and army against himself
Oh his honor he will not falter
He swayed the hearts of millions his should be simple
The weeping eyes that follow him around
Pleading with him to seek forgiveness
Is mind is weighed by the darkness
If he could only wait for redemption
He is a lie of me
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Posted: 2005-11-02 04:59:05 UTC |
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2006-05-15 17:44:42 | lost the lonely dead |
i dont know what to think of this one really, i'll have to go back and read it on a day when my head is a little more clear but i did kinda like the first line, grabbed at me suddenly |