Burn The Priest
Lies Of Autumn
As the leaves fall yellowing like aged paper
Thoughts turn acrid and curl like cigarette smoke
Rising from a butt ground out on my arm
Step into this decay and experience dissolution
Crucified on a plank of cruelty
Crucified on a plank of apathy
To sleep the winter away
Immobile for the cold duration
Huddled in isolation
To sleep the winter away