Withered be the flower
Long past it’s prime and bloom
Forgotten on the stony bed
This silent hillside tomb
For coppered be the grip Of this wooded land
A crude cold gauntlet
Hides the boney hand
Tears once warmed the ground
Torn out of eyes that could cry no more
Compassion for the wind to take
O doth pity the bastard poor
A life of misery and hate
Upon a chance a twist of fate
The poison from the goblet ran
Down the throat of her drunken man
where did summer go?
it left me to wonder when the bottle will tap out.
and the sun will rise.
i woke up yesterday with a hole in my chest…(yet i felt no pain)
numb to all feelings (life in winters chill)
to feel the warmth in this bottle is useless (when you wake up its gone)
when you wake up it all starts again.
i learned to break yesterday…destroy tomorrow.
i’ve watched each leaf fall off my tree.
i’ve watched the seasons change.
(Yet I felt no pain!)
Numb to all feelings. (Life in Winter’s Chill)
To feel the warmth in this bottle is useless. (When you wake up it’s gone)
When you wake up it all starts again.
It all starts again
Why step aside when you fall back in line?
It all starts again!
Why? Why? Why?
Oh, misery is so beautiful.
Yet I felt no pain.
Numb to all feelings
Life in winter’s chill
To feel the warmth in this bottle is useless.
When you wake up it’s gone.
When you wake up it all starts again.
(I need this! I need this! I need this! I need this!)
I need this!!!
