Carries with him a solid steel red rose, while her interior design is aligned by a softly spoken well-scented gun – smoking at the seams

Yes, the world has shot itself in the corrupt foot again and tossed and turned til upside earned

There really does appear to be no real trump card – and all of the capitals are falling one brick by plane-soaked brick

Tower tumble/trembling bodies fumble from heaven ‘n’ hell windows
These people don’t even know which way to simply go – and the bullet about to flounder their every known to be anything
Aside treacherously destroy any kind of wonderfully precious moment

In this thing that has to be seen as illusional time – crying shamed people running at nothing but their very own cowardice flame

Slow the f… down, please… For this flight is about to place itself into necessary perspective
Til, that is, we all get to forget our gain all over again