Run me to the battleground
Strap me with a gun...
Feeding off your plate, you made me love.
covert a push...
Give it your best shot,
Put all your strength...
Baffled in every sense of the word.
mellow in the distance ending of the world...
Sometimes you will find your troubles,
will haunt you in your dreams...
A little stream of blood
Runs down my bashed up face...
He lays his head upon a stone,
The ally way his nightly home...
Burn me into radiance to fuel my youth
I shall wilt into this fire...
I read so many poems of yours
And sense the pain you share...
Anger blowing in the wind
Blood stained hands clawing the sky...
My dreams are irrational
beyond the ability to rationalize...
Prince of Darkness sings of witches and black...
Ozzy grown old, a caricature of his past...