...we colud see in the distance hundreds of men.
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their campsite illuminated by skin bound to stick.
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Like scarecrows: too tired to dance
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Too ashamed to look up
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Taunted by their shadows
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Their empty stares licked at your back
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But at your parade we saw you stand tall
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"Oh beautiful one" mother sheds a tear
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"If only we could reach such heights"
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We are dogs at our waist
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"This is my love" we hear you say
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"This is my strength"
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we catch your spit our lips shine prepared to sing your praises
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You lose your tounge at the scent of burning flesh
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And your mouth was so proud of your existence
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I guess you wont be coming home a martyr...
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-----------------
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Girl's Got A Face Like Murder
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| Fear Before The March Of Flames |
