"a knife ,an edge, a winding road
its sharp,so steep,i stand alone
it works,she screams,i hear no voice
the blood,she drops,a distant noise
but the visions cease,lyk empty breeze
and sleep lyk a wicked charm,is there to seize
the pictures past,as in my dreams they do not last......
he smiles,they cry,i find no glee
he sharpens again,headlights i see
it cuts alive, close in on me
he has an alibi he loves to keep
as i wave my hands to escape the sleaze.
i wake again,killing sleep,
nostalgia then starts to creep
this time again the flashes leave,
those dreams i see,i cannot weave.....
wounded heart,a treasoned soul,
a jaunt to find a berth forgone.
he's got revenge,she's got her death,
i stand with hope , retrieve my faith.
he has let it go,she breathes at last
while i walk away ,under the gloated sun.
this woeful world then creeps away
no memories of this phantasm,
but a trance,of lost artistry.
nothing more as i wake up
lose the trails of aftermath
and they leave me for an other mind
cover him with a shroud of vile... "
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