The incense song – Scott Simmons

the embers of our life ever glowing soon to be coated in the ashes of our sins

the killer strikes at dark when the doors of your mind are shut in comfort

native young women provide physical pleasures but none quench the brains loin sprouted in the creativity of a madman

subtle propaganda games they own the news you know?

your flame shines brighter than the rest your past shackles will be destroyed

here today gone tomorrow or perhaps we we’re never here at all my child

the obsolescent morals of yesteryear justify the blooded seeds of our inhumanity to our fellow man

what is the word god in the echoing chasm in the mind of serial killer of our human rights we we’re created to have

the tin cans rust in our decorated and fancy streets but we don’t say a word captured in the fear of an abused child to a strong overbearing parent

pretty butterfly go where ever you wish and see what you need to see, you will always have a place in my heart my dearest friend

sweat of a nation lies upon the brows of corrupted and fellow drunkards are we safe? will we be home again my dear outside this life of living to the next high in grey slabs of concrete?

what ever the motives be pass me my cigarette and rest only in the depths of night to a pained heart laying in a field of emerald diamonds

hot flames of tribulations bring out the scent lathered on our souls

here we are born and there we shall die, have we spent the time of our days in mourning or celibration of an impending darkness, or do we see the candle flickering in the tides of the endless night where the kings of kings are no more than overweight peasants?

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