We hold so much hate,
To even now the Devil opens his gate...
Once your eyes are open to the darkness they can...
In the darkness you find that you can't see...
Decisions set in
concrete clouds...
At stone towers four
hooded watchers at door...
Alone here at dusk as swallows migrate,
And the night sky is all mottled in red...
Dreams are for dreaming
Plea's are for the weak...
Wandering in dark forgotten streets like her...
She fell into an impasse...
Tears run down like razor blades
and trun into flames...
Cider salaries
suppressed to redress...
As these desolate nights pass me by, I tightly...
Manipulating my prey each and every day, thats me...
50 hands on my back
fingers crawling up my neck...
There are whispers around me
Those little voices telling me to let you be...