| I'm not perfect, and I'm not pretty, but I can get down and dirty, in the nitty gritty, Tough out comes, call for, rough fucks love. Power trip cure, bullets and blades, weapons, so war can be waged. Comunication is ruined by two lost people, that can't get over. Two tiny mistakes, each others problems, should be settled together. I'm not a Dr, and I'm not a Dove..And I don't want to be shot out of the sky, like the lone Crow that I am. So don't cry for me when I die. Don't cover for some one when they lie, don't wander around lost, and ask God why too many times. The sire thats sucking my neck dry, she's, right here, taking blood, waiting, for the times. Connected to the Rhymes and riddles of my Fate. If that which is torn from the Womb, doesn't know anything but to inflict the swoon, and turmoil, who is to stop he? What will thine do when the time is right? And all you can say that was lost is. "Mine" Don't sit down and whine, don't hold back and shudder with the sound, folded wings don't make ammends, and the Black heart does sing, so let it go, and Fly straight forward with the Faith you know. Force the beast back into its cage. Rip, it up, and tear the page, both Creatures rage, is expected to be a taste of War to come. |
