1. |
Greyscale
05:33
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Colors make noises, or was it you?
I want to give you something to scream about!
Peacefully, the colors disappear.
I'm thinking in greyscale again.
Raping after neglecting, treating infants with electric shocks.
I suggest you'll be already on your toes, waiting for my... my... oh my!
It's a deadly play, a deathly liquor swimming about in a pop cherry juice box,
it's your juice, honey. In my mind I drain you, iron hand made.
Nowhere, no when, even for the godless
some hymns will never be mute.
It's not hate, it's what comes instead of love.
Isn't that cheering, sugar?
While faceless figures splice your broken world.
When I cut you like paper through naked skin, all the faces in
the bus to no specific place stare, like they have never seen a madman. What!?
Some mirrors lie, not all. It really depends on the phony ass not looking well enough,
for most of your colors are still intact, so why do you bury?
Bury all of my dirty thoughts in a sandbox and pray they won't come to life.
Cause in the ending of each thought, something wicked bites my lips,
deeper then the thought did.
It's an urge that makes you go wild, like a beast without a rose.
It's rage, flowing like viper venom in a millisecond highway to your thoughts.
It’s every dirty thought that makes you piss on everything you ever cared for.
Trust me, it's there. Why do we need it? Well, we don't but...
I'm thinking in grayscale again.
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2. |
Hinder
04:37
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Eyes open up in globe of clocks,
spinning hyper and ticking too loud.
This rhythm is way faster than this
old slacker gear called "my mind".
Pain is a memory kicking sometimes,
not in this moment I wish I could...
Hinder, I couldn't ask for much more,
so I can give a handful of this
nothing life keeps feeding on.
So little time for serenity.
No time to truly believe in your thoughts.
Pain is a memory kicking sometimes,
not in this moment I wish I could...
Hinder, I couldn't ask for much more,
so I can give a handful of this
nothing life keeps feeding on.
And what do I get?
I merely get to live.
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3. |
Smother Me Gently
04:34
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A throne is falling apart
and the royal wine is bitter.
A plastic rainbow above the palace,
stained with carbon black spots all around.
And the queen?
Lies in the shade of a kingdom.
Unseen, unheard, untouched,
and the witches take her place and share her crown.
They won't smother.
Nothing is dead till tomorrow,
where will this inspiration follow?
Colors of red for your horrors,
this night will scare away your falling stars.
Nothing is dead but tomorrow we'll be playing jams in the crypt.
A Half empty glass, and a wishing bone turns to dust.
Mommy never told you that stars are made of tears,
so when you cry it means that none will shine upon you, dear.
And when they do, hinder the moment for it is touched.
Smile, love, cherish your share, for tomorrow dawns another dying day.
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4. |
A Shape In The Wood
03:33
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"The shape is in the wood" said Mr. Dean, so can I reveal it?
"A poet needs more than the pen, as the physician needs more than the brains".
I beg to answer, but he is too perfect to hear
and so the smothering starts and it ain’t gentle enough.
Forgive me if I fail, I'm taking all of you with me now
because I feel it's worth our while.
I don’t want the shape, I need it, I feel it's every twist.
There are other trees, yes I know, far more distant and far more alone.
Forgive me if I fail, I'm taking all of you with me now
because I feel it's worth our while.
Don't you walk, don't throw it away.
Come with me, together we will ride this pain.
Sometimes it feels as if the wood is carving me.
It cuts the best, the only good parts of me.
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