HypnotiQSorcerer
06-20-2005, 11:49 PM
I have no title for this...
this is a recreation of a song which i posted a while ago called "Mindless dribble"
i reworked everything
and i very rarely say this...
i think i even amazed myself a little bit...
this is the first draft
See the church fires
Wave gallantly across the sky
the broken symbols of monarchs
tempting the horsemen nigh
victims and flower child's
authors of an acid trip
daughters of tim Leary
abandoned upon the strip
Not much of a difference
a pentagram, a cross
Fanaticism at its finest
watch them pillage across
stripped clean
by this so called american dream
mescaline and guitar riffs
can you feel the screamS?
they're feeding the pyre
with Luke and Matthew
they sit back and watch
the skies purple hugh
an interplay thats rare across this land
a land where god has died by the hand of man
Dylan predicted
along the watch tower
Daughters of tim Leary
feel their power
dirty politicians
this is not a trip
can't hide behind your faces
and your seeking microchips
this is the day we've all seen
the fall of the cross
and the american dream
sacred is the way,
of a fallen soldier
dying in vain, for his land
a death which conveys
the coming of mordor
from the book of the prophets hand
C'mon you martyrs
daughters of tim Leary
fight for your command
for your mother and fathers
who have grown so weary
bring back what they truly demand
Freedom...
Freedom from the cross
that your crucified from
freedom from your flag
and whatever may come
freedom from the morning
and evening star
freedom, for he is no match
to this guitar
freedom from god
and his angels divine
freedom, just a mere syntax of
your true design
drop the cross
drop the gun
today we shine bright
the sky
will fall
tonight
this is a recreation of a song which i posted a while ago called "Mindless dribble"
i reworked everything
and i very rarely say this...
i think i even amazed myself a little bit...
this is the first draft
See the church fires
Wave gallantly across the sky
the broken symbols of monarchs
tempting the horsemen nigh
victims and flower child's
authors of an acid trip
daughters of tim Leary
abandoned upon the strip
Not much of a difference
a pentagram, a cross
Fanaticism at its finest
watch them pillage across
stripped clean
by this so called american dream
mescaline and guitar riffs
can you feel the screamS?
they're feeding the pyre
with Luke and Matthew
they sit back and watch
the skies purple hugh
an interplay thats rare across this land
a land where god has died by the hand of man
Dylan predicted
along the watch tower
Daughters of tim Leary
feel their power
dirty politicians
this is not a trip
can't hide behind your faces
and your seeking microchips
this is the day we've all seen
the fall of the cross
and the american dream
sacred is the way,
of a fallen soldier
dying in vain, for his land
a death which conveys
the coming of mordor
from the book of the prophets hand
C'mon you martyrs
daughters of tim Leary
fight for your command
for your mother and fathers
who have grown so weary
bring back what they truly demand
Freedom...
Freedom from the cross
that your crucified from
freedom from your flag
and whatever may come
freedom from the morning
and evening star
freedom, for he is no match
to this guitar
freedom from god
and his angels divine
freedom, just a mere syntax of
your true design
drop the cross
drop the gun
today we shine bright
the sky
will fall
tonight