Lost goals
you used to use the shoes of abuse
refused the truth to produce a weak excuse to cover the mental bruise
choosed the ruthless mess to protest with a provoked game of chess
then left the opponent dissapointed
pointing his finger at you with
a pointless appointment to gather strenght from others loss
crossed roads to approach loads of attention
but with the wrong tension
crossed fingers for lost dimensions
the burned bridges shuffed in the frigde
mabye someday they melt toghether and make the health stand up for what ever
but untill a miracle like that happends you better pick up the stilts to lean against
and walk against youreself
blow you're instrument
try to find the right tone to tone down the mental throne thats been thrown down
torn down the fasade to make safe no sick behaviour get in the way
fuck being afraid
but watch out for the payed pray
it will betray and slay you 'till you lay down and give away the last spirit of soul
so spit out the cold gold instead of try to make it you're own
there's a goal ahead but prepare to loose if you're out for the wrong jewels
~~~War, Hate & Confusion~~~
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