To your knees with this daily passion you dont feel anything. You couldnt raise a knife across him. Would you dare ask anyone to? Take away all the blame, what if you arent responsible? Would it ease this life a little to see him buried instead? The sweat off back now sticks to the carpet. As he pulls himself out from the press. You couldnt have asked for a better father, the words once expressed from your mouth. Now eat them away, or take to the grave. Youre a pretty girl, honey. If he would just die then I might be happy, Mother? So count to sleep, my dearest Martha. You know you should, but you wont leave Arthur. Would it not be for you, then please for the children? Cause if you wont they will, if you wont they will. Maybe for them, maybe them. This is the last time, youll say in the shower. As your blood curves a path when mixed with the water, Ill do it myself so its done. To the right of all way I will bury his grave. Im a pretty girl, funny Out from the woods a light burns in shadow, unnoticed to a girl with a gun. https://youtube/watch?v=_8fp6Idss84
Posted on: Thu, 16 Oct 2014 05:06:04 +0000
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