sorry i failed you
It starts with a grain of salt,
Its the season of your character.
Which seperates men from wolves,
eating sheep, weak and diseased.
Learn, that will get you no where.
Now some sand,
Its the texture of your concience.
You will do wrong for the right reasons.
As men teach in the confines of the witches nest.
Four walls and spells
to roast your dreams, one of a kind to
same old drag bag, your country needs you.
Finnaly some humor,
You must learn to laugh at the tragedies
of the innocent and bad jokes of the guilty.
Then you'll be accepted by the fallen,
martyrs claiming they seek apathy.
If only they knew my son,
In order to achieve it, you must abandon the persuit,
to avoid hypocracy.
At last, breathe in you are finished,
But you are ugly, cursed like all the others.
I made you vulnerable.
Here's some pitty,
buy some love,
Cause i ran out.