Is walking,
By my side,
I can not find,
A place to hide,
Neither to shelter,
From the dizzle,
That accompanies me,
To the extented amound,
Of the swirling storm,
Taking me over,
As the gravity,
Of a round-a-bout,
I can not succeed,
At taking controle,
Of the steering wheel,
I try with all force,
But of course,
I have to admit,
That a tiny part of my orbit,
Has a piece inside my gut,
Where I can not shut,
The desire to take,
That one more hit,
So I might confuse,
Into a concussion,
So I'll forget about the confession,
Of the progression,
In taking over,
The devils habit,
Into my soul.
My wings have broken, I tried to find, Some new once to pair, But I just don't care, Enough... |
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