Damian Mack - 2003
"Through, through the hour glass
Broken shards mark the skin on which they fell" - Damian 2002
To the naive, to the hopeful
I cried out to you not in sadness
No, I died in sadness.
I cried out to you in twisted manor
Life was short then you're fucked
Love was a gift never recieved
Man's worst enemy was his own freewill
I pulled the trigger.
God did not tell me to do that
My blood trickled across the mirror
Don't believe in what is foretold
Never trust some distinct voice in the past
There was no funeral.
Life moved on as it was suppose to
Divine plan? Just the 11 o'clock new
