Autumn Theory Tastes Like Burning
i too was touched by the develish one for there is
adarkness to the trees to pale the joy you never had
when i catch you would you like to play with fire little
boy shock turns my eyes to white fire shocks my
eyes to white would you like to play with fire my
poor f..cked up child nothing is as it seems hands
with yellowed nails fingers reeking of cunt and
nicotine reaching for your throat with a hatred born
of secrets now wrapped in plastic the angel has no
face but a voice will be heard crying out in the black
but no one is listening god forgive me i didnt listen
would you like to play with fire to pale the joy you
never had when i catch you with my deathbag
