For His Love

I would take away the past from him

Rip it up to shreds

Then mask all of his indifference

Burn all those angry beds.

Peel the hands of time from a clock

Then return the favor upon his maid

Get the symptom of the crime

But only by getting him laid.

Find most of it in vain now

It doesn’t matter any more

You can think you are the ceiling

When really, you’re the door.

Let his indifference be the knife you need

The anger is your chord

Wrap that thing around his neck

Then tell him to pray to his lord.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: