not much can be said for us after what we have done a backfire of potential success years and years of development gone I hope you're satisfied with
early years consist of only silence his image is buried beneath a falling sun a cold day another holiday your minutes turned into empty hours (years
recite a prayer look up towards heaven with shame feel those tears stream down your face in true irony we are all good where will we stand when the
beautified they're hidden underneath a heavy disguise we idolize these fraudulent images and ignore all that was once considered original and we have
take my august take a match give it life hand me ashes with a smile watch the collapse of a tower that once stood high with a frown, walk away when