| C-ya on the flipside | |||||||||||||||||
| Mascarade |
This world with its unknow burdens, its uncaring ways, its selfish heart, and cruel ways... What a cruel joke has been played; A bunch of puppets, on little golden strings, jumping and bouncing around, at some one elses will; What was done for this, great injustice? What controlls us, and has power over us? Our lives are oh so short, yet we go through it like a play, every part planned out, every word said to key... It never changes... It never will; | ||||||||||||||||
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In a crypt is where my heart is kept, unknowing of the joys, the pleasures, yhe crusades, of the outside world... To behold with unseeing eyes, the fortunes of gold and silver, to hold the warmth of a lovers ... The soul of another intwined, with my own; | My prison | ||||||||||||||||
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| My truth |
And thus we fall, like heavens rejected angels, to the crust of earth... Sinking deep to its core, the unmoving corpses, of fallen angels; | ||||||||||||||||
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