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I need a mircale to conquer this endeavor.
The imagery of song to portray the routine of life.
Maybe I'm neurotic or just wrong in general.
Maybe I should concede and put out the fire.
Can you feel this uproar?
Festering desire in my thoughts.
I can promise you one thing: I will hunt you till you die.
In absence of your favor I would rather choose death.
I'd perfer it only be executed by you.
No legacy, fall short of understanding.
Maybe I should concede and put out the fire.
I want you to bleed me of my misery.
Drained bled dry; hung up for all to see.

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