There'll come marching great waves of tension No matter how minor, no matter how small They'll come striking down and no means of redemption And they'll be forming the film on the wall. There'll be no sympathy from me For my eyes will have lost all color There'll soon be nothing left to see For you'll no longer be my brother. The great simplicity of nothing The cruel, sharp words running upon you There'll be no life blood left for running through the veins branched out within you. They'll be your body They'll mass produce one blank mind They'll see my body And they'll restrain all of my kind. And put them down into the hole They'll reach out like mad to take your place They'll make tattered ribbons of your soul And tear away your innocent face.
Reason for writing:
It's a long story.
Birth sign: Not entered
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