| To them I feel like steel, pulp, salt and peel
|
| Nothing is real and nothing is not a thing
|
| Reminder pinch and sink one more inch and synchronise
|
| With it’s terms. |
| Decline, it’s in here you will find
|
| Splintered times and sling blade kinds that are going to
|
| Cut you down blind. |
| Suspend and mend your kind how?
|
| It’s the prevention of the mind fuck. |
| I’ve just gone and
|
| Reinvented my fuck!
|
| I don’t bleed for the things that sink and scathe
|
| I don’t need those things with tits and arse
|
| I don’t think I think there is anything true
|
| A lover scathed harps in vain that harboured paint to
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| Celibacy
|
| I heal like feel like what? |
| That I’m not complete
|
| Without it whatever it me be not passed down onto me
|
| Down through the family tree and so where the thing that
|
| You don’t want to be
|
| I am not your sun why I’m no ones
|
| Is because I don’t make excuses
|
| For what I am not like yourself
|
| A hurter and stealth
|
| You’ve taken my heart now my dick and go fuck yourself
|
| I have tried to lick and cleanse the purpose in the hope
|
| To adhere one train of thought in you |
| I have stooped and lessened myself for
|
| I predict and hypothesise that these
|
| Outcomes and they are always so precise
|
| I predicted this outcome although I am not blinded
|
| By the lover of lies
|
| All through the lust not the
|
| Eye not to be mistaken again
|
| Fuck you! |
| You’ll never hurt or
|
| Understand for it never was in you
|
| I don’t bleed for things that sink or scathe
|
| Thank you, fuck you, there! |
| Do I think there is anything
|
| True? |
| Love it scathes, discovers pain
|
| Face it although I don’t
|
| My bliss in denial
|
| Fuse it to bind you refuse it to remind you
|
| Conclusive I bind to celibacy
|
| I don’t bleed for things
|
| That sink and scathe
|
| Blissed by myself |