Bishi Vicious Stories
Blood flowers bloom
Split open wounds
Poison put in my spine
Pick at my stitches
The bitching
Will never ever be mine
Vicious stories follow me
Chase down the street
Burn the sky, the children cry
"We will not be defeated"
Vicious stories chide me
Chase me down the street
I used to care what others thought
But now the press released me
Words shake the system
More broken people
These energies we send
To taunt, to test, to tease, to mimic
A revelation
These words become my friends
Vicious stories follow me
Chase down the street
Burn the sky, the children cry
"We will not be defeated"
Vicious stories chide me
Chase me down the street
I used to care what others thought
But now the press released me
