Heal me sweet father
Of the stings of a neglectful birth
Provide the ail to my black coal mind
Send me your son so he can lift my arms
Good man he is,
good man I want to be
But I still only get static and temptations
...
I\'m full of fire and spitting nails
I\'m cursing the books I gathered
Which was going to break first,
this love or my neck to the rope?
Never was mother\'s perfect son
But now even repent can\'t stop this bullet
Last thought is the gates I\'ll never see
...
As I come back to the past notes,
something reappears in my peripheral
It\'s that vision I thought I saw time ago
Never was the same without it
But can I be sure of the end?
I guess none of us can
I\'ll keep my wings on hold for now
...