Profit

"Trade"

Folder: 
My Work

Love has no gain; I alone, the profit. This place I embrace, seems so temporary. And gain rhymes with pain; there is no way to stop it, but still I won’t trace my steps to sanctuary. Falling so far down, has never felt so right. And peace, the new sound, welcoming the night. Go drown your sorrows, try to realign. Your time may be borrowed, but now, I’m taking….mine.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Oooh. I was cocky that day....lol.

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Blind Faith

Folder: 
Volume One

 
 
 

~~)(~~

Blind Faith”

 

 

 

If I’m going to Hell

Therese a secret I’m going to tell

It’s not a pretty white lie

It will make your faith run dry

 

I wanna die like Jesus Christ

nailed to that which is the ultimate heist

crowned by that which is the T.V age

sung upon your bloody stage

 

We can start with a clean slate

Once I pass around this collection plate

Now throw me your money as gold

through which your soul was sold

 

I wanna die like Jesus Christ

nailed to that which is the ultimate heist

crowned by the computer age

sung on your corrupted stage

 

I could be your God, if he wasn’t so flawed

I could be your prophet, I see “The Stock Market”

I could be your brother, crawl into bed with me lover

I can be your priest, A little boy’s feast.

 

I can be your saint, your angel, and your minister

or how about something a little more sinister

I can be the Antichrist

it’s a big job but a small price.

How about the devil

all I’d have to do is sink to your level

Its all so real,

The X you sign

to complete the deal

I want to believe

but I can’t go back

It’s a war I already lost

nailed to your fucking cross

 

I wanna die like Jesus Christ

Dead in Life, and still your fucking Sacrifice

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(Updated; From Psycho- Confessions)

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