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Not A Lovesong
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By Frank Peter Hermsen
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I believe in the thrill of the hunt
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My venes´re infected by the smell of my gun
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To sweat to swallow to kill to strike
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Is my therapy to protect my rights
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I´ll be with you don´t have a choice
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I watch you sleeping hear your voice
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Your raging against my mind
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But I´m the knot in your lifeline
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This is not a lovesong
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Call me facist spoil my ground
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I´m the first and last to be around
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I kiss your lips for twenty pounds
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And when You explode I will be the sound
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I´m the acid air you´ve gotta breathe
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I kill your family as soon as you leave
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I´m the dirty floor on which you sleep
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And my sense of purity is endless deep
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Not A Lovesong
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| Another Tale |
