Founding III Fathers
Four seasons do come and go my friend I tried to give it my best,
it seems the hell just wont give in, I fallen in with the rest,
at the mercy of hate we die with no shame,
as we give in, the devil has the will too claim,
so bloody, so gruesome, but it phases us not,
as their savior has sentenced us all to rot,
I feel the curse, for the flag flies high,
has delivered my people and myself to die,
I pray too the angel up in the sky,
rescue me from hell,
for the stinch marches strong a cluster of winds,
with hatred of lust and a culture of sin,
we will not win, was destined for all.
we live by the ways , divided we fall.
a foundation of glass,, cracking through time.
slaves to the temptation in the drop of a dime.
I surely decline, so time will reveal,
how the end is so close and soon we will feel.
Copyright © thelast don | Year Posted 2016