It’s a laser for the kings It’s the shallow end of the grave It’s the way they come and go so quickly And leave the bullet in your brain But they don’t bother to answer They’ll never cease to shut their mouths And when you walk upon their streets They’ll go burning down your house Some call this irony I call it everything but faith Some call it destiny I think that word has lost its place Give them all you’ve worked for They’ll pay you back with beams of crimson light They’ll send your children off to war With their eyes blind into the fight For this laser for the kings For the shallow end of the grave Soon it’ll all come and go quickly Leaving the bullet in your brain Don’t push your luck with me Stop touching me with steel Don’t put me in your vice I don’t call your faces real
Reason for writing:
I was oringally going to write a story, but
it came out so much better as a poem.
Birth sign: Not entered
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