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• Artiste: Immedia
• Titre: Fate
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Since enmassed in androgen, a shorter fuse in tripping whim. If that's what you want, this swift control. This girl is sucking off your soul. In honesty and suffering, the torture of your words in me, This judgement you have called to be. In ignorance, or evil... Who could know? Songs unsung of paling tongues, Through the mist of your mind, your chosen ones, Alone in pain, but safe again From some frustration's iron lung. To have, to hold, secrets now told, The spilling blood of some injection, Of a chill within your skin, This frozen flesh has no perception. Can you tell the burn from the salve? Soft sweet substance flowing cold. Trying to cover up my mouth. Loving that which tends to fold. Can you see the dawn from here? No, I know, we only hope. The rhetoric to draw a tear, my self inflicted sentence I can't (hold). In this ocean, Rushing over, If I'm sold straight Into pain. Should I fight the Undertow, Or do I trust the Crushing hands of fate?