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#1
Oh, Of Our Armageddon


Wolves in the chapel
Carcasses in the shrine
Mislead, a generation
Atoning for the parents’ crimes
Your father was a preacher
Your mother was a *****
Swiftly as fallen pride
He don’t preach here no more

Like the wind at a murder scene
Like the wind at a murder scene
None of this means anything

Oh, Goddamn

I pray for mercy
I pray for mercy on me
I pray for mercy
I pray for
Don’t close the casket lid on…
I faintly hear their song
The angel face; that wicked blade
Wicked, wicked blade
Will never send for me
They will never send for me
Will never send for me
They will never

My taste an achromatic pallet
A canvas that won’t contain the sky
Bring you’re finest rapier to their ballet
Upon colorless dance we die
The tale where virgin Marry lost her innocence
Is not the tune that should be chimed
The wolf, even in sheep’s clothing
Will still make children cry


What A Green Flamingo

"God bless,
what a beautiful mess..."
I just couldn't help myself.

This game of keep away
has made me lose myself
in the pages of
our systematic self-annihilation,
Written in our own self-righteous words.

Pale moonbeams fall on your pallid face,
illuminating the silver tears shed
in mourning for our love dead.

The wind blows gently away,
all the smoke from the trees,
and clearly I see
you in the haze sway.

Alone now on this barren path,
surrounded by the swirling ashes
of our dynasty now crumbled,
my lips part and I whisper out to someone,
to you,
to anyone,
"God bless,
what a beautiful mess we've become.
Out of ashes we were born.
Into ashes we return.
Brief phoenix flight,
Romance oh so contrite.
God bless,
What a tragic truth."