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A Fairly Polite Fuck-up
04:11
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3. |
Post-Post-Modern Romance
03:36
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Birth
Life
It's all been done to death.
Man
Wife
It's a screaming, crying mess.
So lift your spirits high, young man
its all a smoking gun.
Erase your vicious lie my friend,
it's only just for fun.
The walls of the foundation founded,
laced with fancy, golden furs.
But the devil speaks to you
so to, bring all your vagrant slurs.
to rest
to rest
to death
to rest
The rhyme of old bears fruit to sweet to rot the teeth unto the grave.
The heart pumps all desire through to force the mind, conditioned slave.
Times were tough all round the scene and faith jumped ship into the spray.
Generational funds dwindle, as the speaker, saves the day.
Regrets
Bring the shivers
Cold sweats
Filled with rage
Regrets
Living quivers
The quest
For irony's real name
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