Suicide on top of sanity.
Sex and drugs mixed up and served as a alcoholic beverage.
Life and death said in church.
Sins full of truth and not violence.
Thoughts of colorful beads and ribbons on a plain person.
Fingers brushing through mudd.
Things not allowed to be saw.
Things pushed until they have to be noticed.
A soft beach is the same thing as the burning grounds of Hell.
In a world of mixed up thoughts and confusion.
No one is ever the same though wish to be.
No one does the right thing if the wrong thing is visible.
Thin leather straps slicing into the backs of slaves.
Eyes driving into your skin.
Perfect snow covering the deadly ice.
Cold and warm bars of steel and plastic.
Fake truths and real lies.
Super-men and lonely woman sitting alone in a bar.
Drinking down the blood of the brutally killed animals.
Hands holding the feet of hated dogs.
Pictures of you on the newpaper: Pronounced dead.
Killed with anticipation.
Killed with no proof of life in the first place.
No records of existence.
Fallen souls laying at the bottom of the stairs of Heaven.
Souls that never made it to the top.
Ripped notes laying on the floor soaking up the sweet blood of misery.
Diamond rings flushed down with beer and whiskey.
Memories of hated people and things.
Shadows of things that cant be seen.
Fingerprints from your lips.
Red lipstick on his forehead.
Blue tears on his cheek.
Pink scars on his wrists.
Black scars on his heart.
Purple lips on his face.
A pale while body on the ground.