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Can you hear the tap, tap, tapping Of my pale, gaunt fingers? Yes, I am waiting. And how my fingers do wander. Just like the faucet, Tap, tap, tap. Echoing persistently, Yes, I am waiting. But my fingers will not. They own this dark, lavender night. Just like a stranger, Tap, tap, tap. Open the door, Let him in. Do not be afraid, Because I am here. Yes, I am waiting. Yet I proceed to Tap, tap, tap. The night becomes still, When the tapping is done. The battle was lost, The war has been one. Eager are the hands of a killer, And that of a machine, One things for certain, Fragile is the throat of a queen.
0
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 3:58 PM UTC
The Queens Throat
Can you hear the tap, tap, tapping Of my pale, gaunt fingers? Yes, I am waiting. And how my fingers do wander. Just like the faucet, Tap, tap, tap. Echoing persistently, Yes, I am waiting. But my fingers will not. They own this dark, lavender night. Just like a stranger, Tap, tap, tap. Open the door, Let him in. Do not be afraid, Because I am here. Yes, I am waiting. Yet I proceed to Tap, tap, tap. The night becomes still, When the tapping is done. The battle was lost, The war has been one. Eager are the hands of a killer, And that of a machine, One things for certain, Fragile is the throat of a queen.
brian-ray
Written by
American
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 3:58 PM UTC
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