shaman sun
09-22-2006, 06:23 AM
Cornered you to sitting streets,
Idle as the tempted rhyme,
Ordered through our endless preach,
To become all that is world and time.
But you'll never fill the hole
Always what you're told,
Empty til' the last breath,
Broken stories may unfold.
Cornered you in sitting streets,
With pockets full and empty eyes,
A plastic visionary, you called these feats
But I can see demise.
And you'll never fill the hole,
Always what you're told,
Empty til the bating breath,
Broken stories may unfold.
Idle as the tempted rhyme,
Ordered through our endless preach,
To become all that is world and time.
But you'll never fill the hole
Always what you're told,
Empty til' the last breath,
Broken stories may unfold.
Cornered you in sitting streets,
With pockets full and empty eyes,
A plastic visionary, you called these feats
But I can see demise.
And you'll never fill the hole,
Always what you're told,
Empty til the bating breath,
Broken stories may unfold.