Books are immortal sons deifying their sires.

Plato

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In the Shadow of the Valley of Death
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We have no future
Heaven wasn't made for me
We burn ourselves to hell
As fast as it can be
And I wish that I could be the king
Then I'd know that I am not alone
 
Maggots put on shirts
Sell each other ****
Sometimes I feel so worthless
Sometimes I feel discarded
I wish that I was good enough
Then I'd know that I am not alone
 
Death is policeman
Death is the priest
Death is the stereo
Death is a TV
Death is the Tarot
Death is an angel and
Death is our God, killing us all
 
She put the seeds in me
Plat this dying tree
She's a burning string
And I'm just the ashes
She put the seeds in me
Plat this dying tree
She's a burning string
And I'm just the ashes
She put the seeds in me
Plant this dying tree