A hint of hostility
Sad, disappointed
Still
The one whom I would embrace
With what little warmth I have left
A hint of hostility
Sad, disappointed
Still
The one whom I would embrace
With what little warmth I have left
Get the small things right as what is important has been stolen. It is thus that we repair an empty shell.
I had to wake up to put out a fire. Take it as a symbol for the destructive nature of belief.
Always be wary of a nation that marches under eagles.
Tired of the flock
And the shepherd’s deceit
Tired of the burning flesh
Extinguished with fresh blood
Tired of the drugs
Killing the cure
Killing the spirit
Killing the heart
For a promise of gold
Tired, oh so tired
Yet sleep evades me