this childhood and this life
Accepted the dejections, singing the
lullaby to myself, I never smiled.
A lonely boy in his make believe world
I felt a burning down my throat
and now when he is all in ashes
I feel a chill.
I look at the boy and I want to cry.
For all the things, I ask for a return,
see the metal and reverse the timeline.
Wicked nights with no heads along,
And my heart now cries for a mother
Broken frames with no photographs
And my heart now cries for the boy
The disease howling in some half barbaric air
and he fades into it all alone.
And my heart cries for the unsaved