She is a pain killer, she took me to the highest highs

Then abruptly she said shes through and left me to die

Now in a different time in my life, old me, new wife old thoughts creep into my life

I take painkillers but they dont help the pain in my heart

I wish I knew she was a pain killer from the start... but I'd probably still follishly give her my heart

They call him the King of Horror
He’s a walking Armageddon
A nightmare given flesh
Made to rot and decay
Just like everything else
I call him by the barcode
Written right on his brain
Nihilson

CHORUS 1:
With an empty stomach and heart
There is no hope from the start
That’s how he was designed
To cut our world down to size

From the penthouse fat cats
To the downtown thugs
No man or child is safe
From his marrow touch
And his eyes of hate
They see no happiness
No truth or dare
Just bugs and cocktails
Waiting to be spilled
Till every drop is gone
He won’t rest in peace
Until life is dead


CHORUS 2:
With an empty stomach and heart
There is no love from the start
That’s how he was designed
(God help our wretched souls)
To tear the world down to size
He’s cut the world down to size

Is he the King of Horror?
Can he crawl out of the grave
And into our dreams?
Is there no stopping him?
Will our minds be wiped clean
So we can suffer no longer?
Will we not even remember
How Nihilson came to be?
What does it matter?
We are who we will be
From one monster to another
It’s all a bad dream
That’s all we can dream
To be heard and never seen
That’s who we will be
If we don’t wake up and see

there she hangs
my most appealing branch
bonding with a full-grown oak tree
what a fine firm fit

she enjoyed splendid foothold
one could say
according to her blooming children
far from decay

and her healthy membrane
enveloping the sturdy stem
that no wind can shake
silently screaming

pick me, pick me!
fine
I will pick you
as long as you promise me
one last time
that you will stay
firm
never let go
so I can
fit
like my head in god's bulge

as I hoist myself onto oblivion’s clasp
into the deadliest of heavens
I’m tired
untie
when you find me
untie

Harmonizing with his un-understandable melody
I vocalize in a loud blare owieee-ee
he thinks I'm being a typical stuipde
than he raises his note to another key
thinking I'm going to sound like a monkey
Owieee-ee-eh-ee utters again my mouth
but this time mine is a little high pitch
"doesn't gives up", my baby sings now in a breathless tone
my amazed mug does nothing else than dropping jaw around 10cm length
proud in his face kills me to give a try
and here I go with another woah-oh-oh
not surprisingly I fail yet I'm delighted
to see the pride in his eyes

She plucked his fingernails
            gently out,

                 he loves me,

                                  He
                             loves
                        me

not..

The pollen of love filtered from
            everyone discarded..

Pulses raised with
each one
           harvested.

The dander was sodden,
               but still she needed to
know..

Does he love me, does he not...

And after every petal was gently
                                        discarded,

You thought that the only way
                 to no was to cut the stem..

Looking to his surroundings,
            a jar of nails...

How many had been planted here
                                               before..

Like a daffodil popping off,
                        she was out cold..

He'd been like a seed floating in the air,
       what some would catch to place a wish.
                          his was to land upon her jaw.

                                              He fell,
the roots that bonded him fallen.
            And he ran out in to the wilderness.

Floating in and out of consciousness,
                                       but he was free..

The suicide note was blank,
            I hadn't thought up
a good enough excuse yet

   for why they killed themselves.

This one was a tough one,
  as my hands aren't as strong as
the used to be, took ages to suffocate...

But as I hung them up like a piñata,
  covering the ligature marks smoothly.
I pushed them to get a rhythm  of what
               to write..

I was tired, uninspired...
I'm getting to old
               for this manual labour,
time to retire and write love stories...



"To whom it may concern,

                         "tested gravity..

"I got a D- oh well....

How could you commit ******,
but it be called two different things?

There was no difference in our actions,
only the side of the battlefield we were standing on.

I knew the truth though, I always have.
I was just like them, a cold-blooded killer.

The only difference was the uniform I wore and the man I pledged allegiance to.