Flies, way too many flies
where in hell is his mother?
he cries, louder and louder he cries
no one's brave enough to bother
to lend a helping hand
oh, i understand
its cold, this world we're in is cold
he'd rather learn that here than tomorrow
when he's old, it'll make sense when he's old
how we all feed off of his sorrow.
Friday, June 29, 2007
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