Crucified and left to dwell,
if you had to do it all again, would you?
Hindsight.
a sign that hangs on the gates of hell,
when you see the fires and half measure desires,
how does the pain feel as you cry your,
no surrender,
this place takes you further than pain ,
than torture that burns your heart and your anguish tame no two lifes the same,
a picture postcard of a misspent youth,
both ends burning in a midnight vocation,
burn baby burn,
no return to the familar choir,
as you sink into the fire,
oh i would carry my own cross again and again to feel the warmth of my mother and kiss those cherry holy lips and change the water into wine if i could hold back time and hear st peters bell chime, and hold the chalice and swear to my fathers, father as the flames grow higher, just to hold you one last time my Mary is my hearts desire.