• Black rose pedals and morose gold medals
    shimmer as the dust settles
    it's final but there's more to come
    it waits at the bottom of the bottle of the rum
    Im left numb
    Now someone summon some good sense
    and stop being so sensitive
    if you live deffensive, life will develop worst
    than the negatives already appear
    I suggest you abandon fear
    Minute minds corrupt and corrode you
    creeping cunningly through catfights and conflicts
    of all combinations and assortments
    but it's still not important
    just contorted
    distorted until the lies supply
    the only remaining language
    the Language of Anguish
    also called "English"
    all the small things,
    they're never gonna finish
    eating away like a thousand hungery tigers
    you're selling your soul to a thousand greedy buyers
    Im tired
    of the West attacking the Swift
    Of the poisions the we give to each other as gifts
    But we suffer through
    we're tougher than you
    you dont know what you're into