At night I listen to the sound of the animals, sleep has become a rare commodity it seems. I understand now that there are no limits to what you
Songs of the HAUNTED
Selfdefense or murder of first degree. Tell me who are you to pass judgement. Raise my hand in anger, a just cause, to pacify the aggressor at all cost.
You and many are one alone. You seek thru the heavens and under the stone. The words that I speak-still left untold. For who’s there to listen when silence
Two and twenty for the hole in you. A meat cleaver comb to run you through. Lethal gas will make you cough. A car crash scene to finish it