Hold on, Holy Ghost
Go on, hold me close
Better run, here we come
It's the day of the dead
We come from a world of oblivion, bad dreams
I got all I need strapped right to my hamstring
I'm not really bad, I'm just made up of bad things
I'm really not a mad man, the voices keep asking
Born with a soul that don’t wanna be saved
Every time I look around I see what a fiend made
Every time I die, I hope they digging up my grave
An undead one like the flag that I wave
I’m not afraid to cry from this ******* sickness
I’m not afraid to die, let the good book witness
I ask and give none, nope, no forgiveness
The day of the dead and you’re on our hit list
So come all you misfits
*****, you’re on our hit list
-Hollywood Undead

.
             *the *future is...a tornado of uncertain-
          ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is
me•such power and speed, can ne-
ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-  
den debris•like clockwork, it will        
   make contact•by the second, bra-        
cing for next impact•the past is...      
  yet another•wild winds that echo      
     my mistakes as reminder•this twis-         
      ter within...tearing with no remo-    
           rse•destroying confident strong-
             holds, breaking feebly boarded
           doors•can't ease the rage...eat-
    en from the inside•won't stop
until...my beating heart had
        died•the present is...only this  
   frail little body•fighting huge 
battles that come incessantly  
  •fending off the future, con-        
    taining the past•not know-            
ing how long.......this disas-       
ter would last•but I'm still      
   here.....still holding integ-         
   rity......•still fighting this       
war waged in history's        
folly•will i be settl-
ed? will the winds
ever abate?•
will i ever
      come to    
terms...?
will i
ever
    acc-
          ept
                     fa      
                 t
               e
             ?
             •

I thought love was a game,
Something to be played.

But I was wrong.

People do get hurt.

The conversations layed out in front of me
like cards to be picked,

Choose the wrong one
and your fate could be flipped

Love turned into a guessing game

As if trying to step around an erupting volcano
Love explodes
Love runs out
Love turns to war.
You used to love them with all their imperfections
And they loved you with yours

But with all the ash in the air
No one could see it clear.

Love has blinded me
And I can no longer
see the rules.