I woke alone today. For all the birds had flown. Inside this empty house. Which no longer feels like home. . No Angel of Mercy. Is gonna hear my call.
Concieved to kill, living just to die.. Hell in an hand basket, why even try?. Death on death, makes the word go 'round.. Fitting to live, six feet underground..
Conceived to kill, living just to die. Hell in a hand basket, why even try. Death on death, makes the world go round. Fitting to live six feet underground.