She is just a foreigner
with a surname difficult to spell...
These fragile walls built between us
were made of dark fire and shame...
To awake one day and be
Like a corpse walking in empty streets...
Which side of the line do you stand?
Left wing, Right wing? Put up your hand...
What's the point of sending me those stupid death...
what have i ever done to you...
Ole Little Bluejay
Upon that branch...
Sing little blue bird,
Chirp chipper sounds...
They are men, wielding great power,
consuming everything around them...
You grab my hand and invite me
Out to the dance of life, hands on my waist...
It's not always beauty
That catches the eye...
Messenger
By Mark Spencer...
In the realm of mentality, a curious thing...
We're seen as faithful, though doubts may arise...