Brand it,
Bandit.
Livin' the dream,
curse.

Sulking
in the silence
of your sorrows.

Neck deep
in worry waves.
&
I'm drowning, in the
shallow waters of my own.

As I rise from the
grave, you
left me in.

Revenge is the
beat of my heartless
pulse.

Acting without compassion.
In a sick sense.
I think, I'm stronger than before.

Playing the role, perfectly.
I will be the medium
for all the hearts you broke.

& I'll plead insanity when the performance is over.

Rum-runnin'
to the cemetery.
Goin' grave-diggin',
Tonight.

It's three to three,
and I'll be back
home.

At the half-way
house, in time for
breakfast.

Till then,
I'm chasin'
the ghost.
I used to call my reflection.

Myths and rapid cycling
mood rings.
These are fabled love stories
from the
Book Of Lust.

Memories seen
from rotten eyes.
And all the maggots,
worms, and spiders.

That live inside them.

Truth is always near.
We just gotta dig for it.

For the truth is always
buried beneath lies.

Rums got me runnin'
back into those arms.

Behind them
head light eyes,
lies
a different story.

This fifths got me
walkin' the plank.
"Captains" orders.

My heart beats
electric.
Till you pull the
plug.

Shut me down.
Let me die.
So I can start a new one.

Beep, beep, beep.
I'm going home.

Using God,
as an excuse to
stab your Brother.

Praising men,
who preach pity
and create hate.

Using God,
as an excuse to shun
personal phobias.

Confession, can't save you know.
Like you said, he decides where we go.
Right?

I'll see you down here.
:)

Low, lower, lowest.
On dirt's level,
you can plant
a
seed of hope.

To grow
high up to
heaven.

Out of here.
Out of hell.

Fuck you, I'm already gone.
It just doesn't look that way.

I'm the elephant that fell into
a tar-pit.
Incinerating until,
there's nothing left to burn.

Sands slipping through the
hour glass.
Your time is running out,
Old Buddy.

I hate seeing you go.
So soon.
But good people
can't stay down here, forever.

Secret sorrows
and my tears
were hiding beneath
dollar-store sunglasses.

When you went down,
underground.
Or
Somewhere,
anywhere, but here.

Just as long as you made it
to round two.
Just as long as this isn't it.

Whatever helps me sleep at night.

When the fire burns out
there will be nothing but
a foggy forgiveness.

From me
to you.

Till then,
watch your back.

Floating up, down
round the realms.
To no-where land.

A place where
nothing matters
.
It's a real,
place to be.

Living in the freedom
of a "promised" land,
within the comfort of your mind.

I'd like to go there.

Crack-head crazy
for
diamonds.

I've got those
burning ruby-red eyes.

From
shooting up
gold.

7 minutes rushes with all the riches of the land.

Then,
out to steal more.

Bandit's back.

Half eaten corpses
and the monster's
still hungry.

High, as well.

Cast down,
to the brim-stoned
side of mind.

Hannibal's House Of Cannibals
are out, for a night on the town.

An all you can eat
pedestrian buffet.

Is just a
munch-munch-munch
away.

I love you
is the biggest white lie,
I've ever heard.

Stop the car.
I'm ready to go home.
Now.

Cause this,
this obviously isn't working out.

Selling out your
soul.

Is just another way to die.

At the hands of you deepest fears.
On the darkest of nights.

They live beside us.

Waiting, hoping, praying
to their Keeper.

For us to look away.

Long enough for them
to walk inside-out of us.

Shattered, even revenge
has it's weak moments in battle.

Virgin innocence and a whore's heart.
The epitome of Tragedy.

A comedy for cynics.
A romance for perverts.

All mustered up together
in a cluster fuck of nothing.
Still it's something.  

The rising star is
born under the fallen Sun.

& So I try again.

Being on dirt's level
looks nice
when you're
six feet under.

I just want to break even.
Or break your fingers.

Whatever the Lord,
let's me do.

I'm hoping he's feeling vengeful today,
too.

Witch!

She's a bloody, Witch.
I say.

A harlot of the Devil.
Branded,
with the mark of the Beast.

She's to be
burned at the stake.
Then thrown into the river.
Like all the others in her cult.  

Down to the river,
to dispose of another soul
who got in God's way.
  
A martyr to the Church of Satan.

God, would be proud.
Lucipher, more so.

Oh Salem,
what has come of us?

Hate flows,
free through her blood.
Infecting every organ.

First,
with her heart,
then her brain.

A deranged, heartless bitch,
with all the power.

Succubi.
Queen of Bloodshed.
Harlot of Satan.

Swing dancing murderers
& ball-room assassins.
Seek her out, on
the dance floor.
To, get a chance to Swing Dance with Lucy, herself.

Good men will fall down to evil.
Slowly dancing and stabbing  
pretty, young girls.
Under the noses of their wives.

To save their,
lost souls
from the belly of the beast.

Covered in their blood, sweat & glitter,
the Party Princesses are slain
by the Princes of Poverty.
Cause they weren't getting pity fucked.