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Sep 2018
England Made Me Proud


Black Box Recorder bring my world into order.
Such sorrowful tales of a brain melting disorder.
Girls crying tears of pure love broken;
Pure love snatched from beneath the truth that was spoken.


Promises of death upon exit from this;
This relationship, this world naturally exists.
A natural instinct for survival,
Disposed of like a clam of lust, lead to suicidal.


Cover songs sing of stardom,
Taken from the foolish, naïve generation.
Pop star T.V. is pure pop trite to me,
So give me death inside of my misery.


Hang our souls out to dry on the line,
There is nothing to risk, in this little light of mine.
This life of mine shall shine upon her,
Heavenly words of pain, death, love and being reborn.


Someone out there spoke of love;
Black Box Recorder speak of death.
I shall only tell her, I love you like I love my drugs
And Heaven can be heard in your dying words…your last breath.


You spit out your soul and give it your all,
In such serenely spoken words for the condemned.
With a soul like hers, I could build a star with these *****,
For she is just like me, destroyed, by everything.


Life is unfair!  **** yourself or get over it.
You have blonde hair, but I still love you.
Life is unfair!  **** yourself or get over it.
You have the look of love too.


So I killed myself, oh ****…
Or did I just get over it?
I think I shall **** us all,
Because I just don’t give a ****!


You don’t mean a thing to a Prince like me,
For my vocabulary shall give me the freedom I seek.
Bring me death, buried deep in a time capsule.
Let me be buried later in life, for I am no fool.


I must stay alive to discover my lover,
My destiny chosen singer of death, my other;
Half of this star is a bright flash of brilliance.
My half is as black as your soul, it is simply magnificent.


Love will **** you again and again,
But resurrection will save the day.
Suffer more pain, again and again,
Just so we can once more meet and find our way.


Let us journey together forever, but separately,
Let me show you how much this angel means to me.
Let Black Box Recorder remember everything I speak,
For my soul belongs to you, for you set my words free.



(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey
Written by
Aa Harvey
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