I know
You think i don't
But I do
There is a certain
Beauty
Hiding itself in the eye
If only
It didn't hang back and cry
Small lonely
Souls whisper in distress
Cry little tortures
That know you'll never
See the big pictures
We're blind to what they're about
She has her sins
I have mine
Her pain is no less
Than mine is
But she feels the anger is upon her
She doesn't understand
The Powers that ferment our daily bread
Have gone irreversibly mad
The wheat is drunky
Embrace the fucking manque