In this note my story will tell you,
the aches you put me through.
You were breaking me down,
I promise you'll never see my face in this town.
Failing the misdirected bullet of all things,
pain spreading its insightful wings.
With a tastless ceasing breath,
it will be the quickest story of death.
Tired of her excuses who will conclude the trigger,
but he, the guilty prisoner of contempted love.
How lightly that four letters define zealous murder with little vigor.
Stop the words from slipping, "my hopeless dove."
Play the emotional actor in this display,
when the stricking angel leads him astray.
It reaks of death today, decieved in a new cliché.
and how authentic what she'll say,
" I love you, but I wont show you the way."
And she'll waste away,
tightening her strings and putting his heart in disarray.
Second scene stricking in blood shed,
how her love can be portayed by passionate heat.
For all the respect they get,
angels turn their hearts "dead."
More heartache with it another soul will fall.
Distasteful in all it's ugly shame,
becuase she isn't the blame.
That liquid trap was set in silent tranquility,
walk transparent and true,
stop the wait the die wont be cast,
nothing can change, his fate is set to blue.
Curtains mark the completion.
Lights and all equal tonights fatality.
It's easy, but it hurts the most.
For our last horizon, lets remember the good times, here's a toast.
"her soft laughter and forgiving voice" it was delicate cyanide for the heart.
Never noticing it was homicide from the start.