Real
Real
Knife digs deep
push it further still,
make the blood spill over me
do what you will.
I'll enjoy every last minute of it,
I'll remember each little twist
then I'll thrust into your chest
and rip your heart out with my fist.
Don't think I won't be laughing
as you gasp for your last breath,
a crooked smile will overcome me
as I eagerly await your death,
so that I may spit upon your body
cleave your head with my heal,
you'll wish you were only dreaming
but I guarantee you, it'll be real.
Oh so real...
Knife digs deep
push it further still,
make the blood spill over me
do what you will.
I'll enjoy every last minute of it,
I'll remember each little twist
then I'll thrust into your chest
and rip your heart out with my fist.
Don't think I won't be laughing
as you gasp for your last breath,
a crooked smile will overcome me
as I eagerly await your death,
so that I may spit upon your body
cleave your head with my heal,
you'll wish you were only dreaming
but I guarantee you, it'll be real.
Oh so real...
Reacties op dit gedicht
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Bruno | 
|
|
| Gecontroleerd door: | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 29 december 2001 | ||
| Thema's: | ||