A boy looked in a window, to see a naughty show Through the pane of pain, the master clown did blow The circus is a holy tent, the keeper of my rhyme Where I forged my chains, creating this pantomime Pretending to be normal, I wait until after dark Then I paint the frown on, get a whore from the park At the bottom of that bed was a darling in a chest She watched with big eyes, horror hooking her from rest She dances for the maniac, twirling on her strings I will make her mine, sharing damaged things I will be her riddle, she will help me grin So why does she run away, she has to let me in No...
A boy looked in a window, to see a naughty show Through the pane of pain, the master clown did blow The circus is a holy tent, the keeper of my rhyme ...
Underneath these gang tattoos beats a heart three times a year. I'm a slow puncture death, a murderer, a rapist, and a number. I killed my best friend. Death doesn't stalk me, it walks ahead of me by twenty-eight paces. I went home after I sold my soul to the devils. I thought life would begin, I was a free man, instead within days the bullets fly and my last hope dies with the slain. There is nothing left to live for in this world. I belong to the 28s, I'll always belong to the 28s. The woman across the road judges me, she hates me, and takes every opportunity to let me know it. Yet,...
Underneath these gang tattoos beats a heart three times a year. I'm a slow puncture death, a murderer, a rapist, and a number. I killed my best friend...
