Boris My Neighbor Satan
The ideal, he seems quite uneasy,
is almost crying, and he just sits there.
He's got a pair of dark, innocent eyes.
"So tell me." The lies quivers together. "Tell me, don't
shy away." Scared.
"Tell me." The lies squeeze each other, very tightly.
This is like a prayer, I thought, till the night came.
Bring it down, you've got the blade in your left hand.
Don't hesitate.
Trying to or not trying to terminate, he has some tears
in his eyes.
Caught off-guard, his eyes give somewhat dismayed look,
with the innocence deep inside.
Look, it's so wishful. Why, why do you blame me?
The melody penetrates his chest, and stops him crying.
The melody penetrates his chest, and makes him pray.
It drives him insane, oh he still has those innocent
eyes.
It makes him pray.
"How does it feel to be driven insane?"
He still has it in the chest, it seems.
Somehow he feels it's inside of himself.
The Satan might have given him nowhere to go.
It's sticking into his chest, and it's the Satan.
