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I look out the window and what do I see?
a small little child looking back at me.
She says to me, "We live no more...
We no longer have something to die for."
I look in wonder, What does she mean?
her words, I just can't seem to read.
She continues, "We tend to do it for the thrill,
the thrill, the chill, for when we kill.
We stand and watch the red flood,
the red flood,the run, of blood."
- by Too busy Sinning |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 03/10/2011 |
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- Title: The thrill.
- Artist: Too busy Sinning
- Description: This is what I started to think about for a lil bit, hope you like it.
- Date: 03/10/2011
- Tags: life
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Comments (3 Comments)
- DeCrazySheep - 04/03/2011
- as a psedo-mother I'd be torn between "Honey, wait here while I call your parents" and "Zoey, could you fetch mommy's shotgun? That's a good girl, we don't keep guest waiting do we?"
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- Silencematters - 03/22/2011
- I liked this a lot. it was very interesting
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- Lady Maryam - 03/10/2011
- i like it alot biggrin its definitly better than all this emo crap running on this site -.- people! drop da knives for second D:
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