Frozen oak is a currency I can't claim or Keep
Burning at the altar I
Swear on this cross that you'll burn
Right beside me Be
An anchor for a cause Or
Throw an Anchor just to cause disbelief This
Cloud you're on will descend We will
**** theses ******* off in the end Our
Lords are our hills And
Consciousness is black For
I wait for just a ******* day Too late
To save us both in the end We
Will mash this ******* into dirt Forever
Struggling to express ourselves as long as We
Are still above the water I
Swear that I will never Stop
Fighting to the till the bitter Wounded Creativity
Will mark my end My
Legacy is a tombstone of Words
A shroud cast to keep The ******* Out
The door and into their expressionless lives
Again
No flaws for you
But a death sentence for obedience and Useless Gem