Rant
Im tragic, I know, child of lightA warrior fighting his way through life
But with no one to fight for, a broken heart
A back full of knives, and bloodshot eyes
I don't care anymore, in some ways I do
I don't know anymore. Numb from the pain, I guess its true...
I've got no one but myself, I've got nothing to prove,
Thus, In fact, I've got nothing to lose
But Im losing my mind, so it seems
Cant put my finger on what type of disease
Is it the broken heart, is it the broken trust?
Is it the knives in my back, riddled with rust?
Bring me a priestess, bring me a priest,
bring me a rabbi, a shaman at least
Someone who can cure this beast
Im an animal, with a heart that beats
I deserve to be loved, like I love myself
Healthy, honest, True, Everlasting
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