Poetry, Art, Love

Some will still bite the hand that feeds, yet they will still beg you for more. More flames are all a fire needs. Some will still bite the hand that feeds. Follow the light, see where it leads, we don't need reasons to lie for. Some will still bite the hand that feeds, yet they will still beg you for more.

Welcome to music, where hearts explode within our ears. Almost supernovae; beats from other spheres. Harmony blues, allegedly writing feelings. You think I'm writing clues. I think I'm priming ceilings. One man's shoes is one man's save. One man's treasure, is another's grave.

Looks like I'm off the hook, scott-free. Who will notice when I am gone? In the night, I will gladly flee. Looks like I'm off the hook, scott-free. You'll lose me the way you got me, With all that brain and all that brawn. Looks like I'm off the hook, scott-free. Who will notice when I am gone?

As true as love and right as rain, let's hope the stars will light our way. As my feelings are as hot as pain, as true as love, and right as rain. Every loss can be a gain. After the night will come the day, as true as love and right as rain. Let's hope the stars will light our way.

It is better late than never. Otherwise, don't even bother. Though the place may be wherever, it is better late than never. Don't make others wait forever, you should treat them like your mother. It is better late than never, otherwise, don't even bother.

I said, you can say that again. But this time not under your breath. You spoke about what happens when - I said, you can say that again. Don't think about dying, cause then you might manifest your own death. I said, you can say that again. But this time not under your breath.

Some people beat around the bush. While others try finding their roots. Some people need a little push. Some people beat around the bush. They stay seated on their tush like they're scared of dirt on their boots. Some people beat around the bush. While others try finding their roots.

It was by the skin of your teeth that you did not bite the bullet. You escaped the flames from beneath, it was by the skin of your teeth. I had kept the blade in it's sheath, brought a gun but didn't pull it. It was by the skin of your teeth that you did not bite the bullet.

Murder was the case they gave me. I had been framed to be guilty. They think that I have gone crazy. Murder was the case they gave me. I refuse to go down lazy. I'm willing to get hands filthy. Murder was the case they gave me. I had been framed to be guilty.

You send me chills. You send me shivers. To all the hills and all the rivers, you sent me. I'm full of flowers. How do I return from puzzles? Your words send me falling to my knees. Now just in case libraries die; I printed screenshots of the memories you sent me.