

The Artists Die FirstDoes this not meet your expectations?The Artists Die First
Cold, calculating deliberations.
Haven't you ever felt anything at all?
Inside and out, analyze the doubt.
When no one is anything, make the call.
You cut, you disect, you pull out our lungs.
You put our dreams up in flames,
But I'm here to salute the man at the stake.
Torches are lit, knives are sharpened
That wooden pinacle is ready to burn.
By your will, we'll all turn, by your will we're decieved.
But I will never cease to believe.
--
and you were the boy, when all i needed was a friend
and if we can't make it work
let's just pretend, let's just pretend, let's just pretend
hi.
--
Suddenly someone is there at the turn style
Me.
Hi Keeeeylaaaaa.
I cannot figure out how to work this site though. I feel so stupid fumbling around it.
--
Suddenly someone is there at the turn style
Me.
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