Stop to listen to the smell of alcohol and cigerettes,
And drown in sorrowed metaphors that pierce the air like bad tyrets,
And make you gasp and breathe it in pollution of a hopeless mind
And grasp the benefits within, that stretch loyalty far and promise, wide,
That tears apart the root of hate thats grinding black behind hell's gate,
That stoked the fires of the wild that cursed at all with no debate,
Related to the punishment of being forced to walk alone,
Driven by lyrics, preachers lies that belittled all and rescued none,
What they will dribble you will hail and bare the burden with no avail,
And smite the wicked, fly their sails and stumble on, a body frail,
A pale yet powerful female, with eyes wide open for record sales,
Not following strict and morbid tale, what was wrote in the Bible, in fine detail,
Music manual, mind marked pages, in a frenzy of hidden rages,
Stages of writing, bars of ten, that meant nothing when passed through age's,
Phases of the mildly hated, aspiring to be someone new,
To not walk in the shadows of idols, but to let your own sunlight carry through....
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