DeathAngel
08-20-2007, 06:16 PM
I wonder did peace ever exist,
Or is it as thin as a fine gray mist.
When we bleed the blood, we cry, and sometimes die,
Our face showing false truths, but why?
Gunshots rang from here to there,
What we’ve seen, what we hear, what we swear.
Into the morgue, to the funeral we go,
Tears of blood shed, that flow and flow and flow.
Oh my, oh my, woe is me,
I cry, I weep, I cry to thee.
Cold water runs down my face, & I cannot hear,
Gunshots rang again, from ear to ear.
Is this the true life, our reality?
Oh my it is, our own fatality.
Or is it as thin as a fine gray mist.
When we bleed the blood, we cry, and sometimes die,
Our face showing false truths, but why?
Gunshots rang from here to there,
What we’ve seen, what we hear, what we swear.
Into the morgue, to the funeral we go,
Tears of blood shed, that flow and flow and flow.
Oh my, oh my, woe is me,
I cry, I weep, I cry to thee.
Cold water runs down my face, & I cannot hear,
Gunshots rang again, from ear to ear.
Is this the true life, our reality?
Oh my it is, our own fatality.