Your head racing with thoughts abroad
time spent on nothing you see unchaste
my picture sitting on top of your desk
the sun fades when you don't stand to protect
a life so pure and mine so reprobate
I'm fumbling with decisions and you keep on straight
in your eyes the mirrors to view your guide from behind the lines
it'll tell you to keep your precious mind away from me
unamused, the joyless tone you take
creates the bruises that won't be cured by the burning of a stake
I'm just a man and my father has taught me well
but I know
there's more than one way to get out of hell
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
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