contrive to be the one standing at the center to be the one in the limelight and high society gives you a warm welcome with a practiced hand you manipulate the air to produce the wind and it blows cold right thru my soul and i know that i am no longer welcome in the great halls in the family's kitchens in the fields of maidens
with a professional eye line up the targets to resemble me and people think that its so charming but i taste the poisons in your unseeing glances i sense the malice in your every gesture
its in your shoe print in the sand of some woman's ****** shore its in the words you scrawled on the headstones of scared churches laughing with filth in your dark soul its in the deathbeds of the trail of victims you have left behind every doomed road you travel
with a cage round your eye you think to keep your intent within but it seeps clear like a river of dirt and death and falls to the silk ground and curls there like a viper
i must flee you because i see you your no Prussian prince your tyranny in the satin sheets your a well trained assassin with a clean glove covering the lepers touch underneath