“The Whores Behind The Church”

They took me behind my mind,

touched my hands drenched in lies.

And I never felt so good,

like God always should.

But I guess the whores behind the church know best,

of what is good.

But I fight,

because I know what is true.

No way they love me,

don’t know why they should.

They get paid,

a soul per hour, a smile for a kiss.

The whores behind the church give the best

of what the most I miss.

 

 

 

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“Dirty Little Girl”

Well I guess I knew what she would be like in bed,

after all that stuff we’ve done in hotels.

But I never saw what’s beneath her cloak

when I found out she was my dirty little girl.

She’s just 16 years and yet she’s on fire.

She always makes me feel like her body’s on fire.

So I grab her down,

make her scream,

make her long for some air.

My dirty…

My dirty little girl.

“Dancing With Shadows”

Mona Lisas getting older,

her smile has faded like notes

lost through seas of poison.

Nobody could see the knife

moving through the air, a fast shot.

now she’ll die,

now she’ll dance

with the shadows of the knife.

Mona Lisa dances,

dances with shadows.

Songs she knows,

moves she shows.

To the men removing their clothes.

Now she dances,

oh how she dances.

But death made a move on the board.

The knife cut it’s way

through Monas smile,

through her lust of men

and lust for life.

Her laughter stopped and she saw,

her soul dance,

dance with shadows,

with the shadows of the club.

Mona Lisa dances,

dances with shadows.

The men they saw,

run cause they know.

The police will take them away,

now they run,

oh how they run.

And Mona Lisa’s cold,

And Mona Lisa’s cold.

 

Mom

Mom,

I’m sorry I came late.

I think I drank too much,

because I found myself some love.

And,

And I think she’s the one,

the one I always burned for

when in bed I cried alone.

I’ll never forget you,

when we’ll move away.

I’ll call every day

and every day I’ll love

The sound of your voice,

when the thunder crashed you sang to me.

Now I sing to my kids those songs

that always helped me along.

So

This is what you meant,

when you told me I would be

somebody else’s dream.

But

I don’t think I can

tell to my kids,

they won’t see you like this.

Cause it’s always dark,

when I close my eyes,

and I miss you every day,

and every day I’ll cry

 

I’ll always miss your light voice

when the thunder crashed you sang to me.

Now those songs are just memories,

and my kids won’t remember you.

 

“Sunday Morning”

I will try to take you home.

Take you away from the world below.

Drive my car up your road,

only waiting for the rain to go.

Sunday morning rain is falling baby.

I don’t know if it’ll go away.

But I know I will be coming baby,

when sunday morning goes away.

I hope you won’t be sad

if I don’t come at all.

You have to understand,

that sunday morning won’t come at all.

And I hope you’ll stay,

when the rain goes away.

“To Whom It May Concern”

Look at me,

am I not good enough?

For your empathetic love?

I fought bulls

and slaughtered lambs.

So that you may touch my head

and say that I am saved.

But every time I bend my knees,

and curve my spine.

As my head touches the cold floor.

I hear only silence.

An annoying reminder

that you will not glance at me.

The bulls may as well fight me

and the lambs slit my throat.

All I’ll get from you

is a stone cold shoulder,

as cold as my body may be.

“Old Son”

See my old son

he’s moving away.

Wanted to chase

the blues away.

Always quite happy,

with food and some friends.

But never so lonely,

never had hate.

How?

How could he kill them all?

See my old son,

he’s holding his gun.

Pulling the trigger

he shot at the sun.

See my old love

he’s walking away.

Walking the green mile

while he said:

Why?

Why did I kill them all?

Why must the world now know;

to become a criminal,

mom had to see my go.

How?

How could you sit and see?

Kids slaughtered down by me.

If I could confess to God,

I’d make him protect my mom.

See my old mom

she’s crying away,

while the rope

suspends me mid-air.