Lower Dens
Hospice Gates
On the hill adorned in dew,I miss seeing you through your den of verse.In the clinic stall they've confined me to.Loose the noose I wear and I'll run away with you.All riled, Night's young, I lunge,Gutted on hospice gates.Into these rooms, Your bawdy verses boom."If you don't know me now,You'll know me soon."All riled,Night's young,I lunge, Gutted on hospice gates.
From Letras Mania