Cut off God’s thirteenth finger,
It brings the world bad luck.
At the supper of the twelve,
It traded life with a kiss on the cheek!
A tree held a rope for it,
So it could trade the life back!
Number thirteen of the twelve,
Died in a non-existent hotel room.
The dead speak tales of the one,
Who’s kiss killed the sun.
Blew out the world’s candle,
And slaughtered god’s cattle.
Loaded three long nights into a gun...
And pulled the trigger!
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
Cut off God’s thirteenth finger,
It brings the world bad luck.
At the supper of the twelve,
It traded life with a kiss on the cheek!
A tree held a rope for it,
So it could trade the life back!
Number thirteen of the twelve,
Died in a non-existent hotel room.
The dead speak tales of the one,
Who’s kiss killed the sun.
Blew out the world’s candle,
And slaughtered god’s cattle.
Loaded three long nights into a gun...
And pulled the trigger!
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