I’m just so sick and tired of playing the game. Forever meting and deleting all
the simple mistake. Here I am, god, help me I am slave to a name not possible
or possibly the person that I’ll became. See, everybody’s borne in battles but
I’m trying to breed out, by never doubting that in doubting I’ve created the
doubt: if I’m about the best bred to lead the canon’ed devout then can I realize and factualize my fictional account of how I’m born again?
Forgive this life loving friends and friends don’t give a damn for damning is the means to end. I’ve been trained to live lost in a hole, where poison could
equate to control, is controlled by my hand, here it is, here I am Dn dah
What we don’t know yet we’ll never find in our books. So let’s spread our legs
and all take a look at truth for once where wants are wound by how we’re pound
for pound bound to like to fuck. I believe in what the conscience has ruled:
credulous a must, allow my heart be fooled. Just as well, I’ll be stuck to sell my delight in licking sweat to swallow hell, oh well. I’m born, again,
I’ll build a life fucking friends and friends won’t give a fuck for fucking is the latest trend. I’ll give my statue a shell, trust my unconscious is well and
controlled by my hand, here it is, here we am Dn dah
Don’t pin me up. Don’t you know my cross you’ll never carry?
Don’t nail me up. Why don’t you buy my cross? You’ll never bear it When I’m the god of failure you’ll love me later, and heaven dissolves for me