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E-R-F-C
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Yo the dream catcher, fist that gleams golden armor
War chariot ensemble muse a battle torn tornado Form fatal, born in a spiked pit cradle Sleep on nails pounded up through the bottom of a table Blood in my eyes... from the strenuous tales That thicken the lies... like a canibus veil Have you impaled put ontop of my ship and set sail Feel the fresh air by next year no flesh there Etched bare The cold north barbarian wearin your skull over his chest hair You just stare hollow cranium warcries echo throughout your stadium A gore filled sanatarium where souls spend the rest of their days Trapped in a maze wandering the labyrinth dazed The irony this place is located in a desolate plain The galaxy of ones brain where there was never any change When I mash on the gas in my chariot flames carry it My six shooter my blade and my barb wire lariat I ride to the scent of the wolf on the scene Ride by my side and you'll see what I mean I appear to the masses as poisonous gasses In the rough shape of a human being I wave my sword and I rattle my sheild I slay the hordes in a battle for fields An ancient warlord misplaced in time Tragedy forewarned and placed in rhyme Commanding respect and admirative silence Using tools foreign to subjects of violence My authority comes not from the heat that I hold But from the pride of a man who wont repeat what hes told menes archangel Last edited by menes; 02-05-2010 at 11:34 PM. |
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