|
Well, I know we have something for you anyway, but here's the songs I wrote when we were talking! The second one kinda of sounded like I was high when I wrote it, but it's for you! xD
Take as Directed
Lyrics credited to Meghan Kennedy
Sweet Nothings
Mortal folly is a demon's jolly,
ringing at the school bells.
The skipper's rope is an abandoned hope,
Of this life so melancholy.
The blood pours down, but you still ignore,
his hand to your chest, you shameless whore.
[chorus]
Sweet little nothings, a postcard of dreams.
You tack it upon your wall, ignoring all the screams.
You cannot go to heaven, but you’re too innocent for hell.
Come to me, wretched girl, I'll end this spell!
I can't even look at you anymore,
you moral-forsaken child.
If this your idea of a fantasy,
you should be released to the wild.
Where the trees will grab and the grass will rip,
at your pleated skirt of red.
Go ahead and yell for me, I'VE ALREADY THOUGHT OF YOU DEAD.
Sweet little nothings, a postcard of dreams.
You tack it upon your wall, ignoring all the screams.
You cannot to heaven, but you're too innocent for hell.
Come to me, wretched girl, I'll end this spell!
Slide down lower, baby, let the drugs sink in
Pray to whatever gods have yet to abandon you!
For even though you cursed Jesus for his “original sin”
The violence you experience is nothing you previously knew!
Sweet little nothings, a postcard of dreams.
You tack it upon your wall, ignoring all the screams.
You cannot to heaven, but you're too innocent for hell.
Come to me, wretched girl, I'll end this spell!
For the Child of the Moon. (That’s you, hun.)
Gloria, gloria,
Let the shadows come.
Gloria, gloria.
Let the string undone
Gloria. Gloria.
Gloria, Gloria
Let the child take hold.
Gloria, Gloria.
Let my feelings mold!
We’re on a fast road, to place we’ve never been.
Running from tainted past, to a future without sin.
My bonds gather round, resting upon each others beating breasts.
The dreads behind us fades quickly, the logic behind them messed.
I stand the protector, the pillar for us all.
To all the shivering children running, unto us must you fall!
Gloria, gloria,
Let the shadows come.
Gloria, gloria.
Let the string undone
Gloria. Gloria.
Gloria, Gloria
Let the child take hold.
Gloria, Gloria.
Let my feelings mold!
Sinful shadows we claimed to be,
Our toys of brimstone and fire.
We found the light we yearned to see,
Our sincere, innocent, desire.
To find a path to wander down, not paved by tricks and lies,
But the pure rosy stone that keeps the innocence we crave, without a guise.
Gloria, gloria,
Let the shadows come.
Gloria, gloria.
Let the string undone
Gloria. Gloria.
Gloria, Gloria
Let the child take hold.
Gloria, Gloria.
Let my feelings mold!
The castle we gather in is made of gray, uneven, coarse stones.
But we sleep and live and pray, thinking of the treasure inside them unknown.
The gems of rarest rubies, sapphires, and flecks of the purest gold.
My sister of the sun rest upon them, her dreams of event foretold.
Her gift they say, is that she is one that everyone respects.
She loves all she can see and touch, my spirit the best yet.
I am a creature of the day, child of the moonlight.
My black feathered wings unfold, as I fly past the stars in the night.
 Orange Affair · Sun Jan 07, 2007 @ 06:26am · 3 Comments |
