Автор: Mr. Strange

The roll of distant thunder breaks The afternoon of silence wakes They hurry through from Petergate as if they know

I sense the tension A thickness in the air The filthy air of our morality Misplaced affection In lost and

Lying there on satin sheets Her body cold her heart still beats A frozen love is your defeat Sitting on

I know it’s true that you’re feeling oppressed I know that some hold you down But fighting evil with still

We have pretended far too long Ignoring far too much Accountability long overdue We have neglected far too long Assuming

Donning a sweet contented mask Acquiring bliss, a grueling task Adoring a regretful past Wondering how long it can last

I don’t dream anymore Yes, they just seem to fade Always stripping me so clean… Deserting me I strive to

I’ll take away this selfish pride Is there room for more than one inside? Walk the course in shallow strides