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IT WAS A LIE WHEN THEY SMILED

AND SAID,

“YOU WON’T FEEL A THING”.





In this moment we can't close the lids on burning eyes. Our memories blanket us with friends we know like fallout vapors. Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun, scorched and black. It reaches in and tears your flesh apart, as ice cold hands rip into your heart... That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest.

And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence?
And if the world needs something better, let's give them one more reason now!





.




domingo, 30 de mayo de 2010

It's poetry carved in flesh


  This beautiful hell of ours




To the deadliest sin we confess




(Tears of joy fill our eyes)


 
We are safe where disfigured saints

Cry out their prophecies of doom



My heart's a graveyard, baby
And to evil we make love
On our passion's killing floor
In my arms, you won't sleep safely
And of lust we are reborn
On our passion's killing floor.-

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