Wretched

"Why so soft,

O' my brothers...

So pliend and yelding... how can you one day triumph with me..."

Rejoice in sweet submission of murder, of conceit

How can you ever triumph with me?!?!

I'd rather be wretced and broken

Than join into your fraudulent joy

I'd rather leave my will unspoken

Than stain it in your sick vaudeville

Petrified spirits, oblivion of past

Vulnerable whisper, cheap kiss for a second

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