

The Games We Play In Hell6 am, Monday morning The scent of suffocation here I pull myself awake To your cold embraceThe Games We Play In Hell
8 am, in the city And I hate you more that I ever did I kiss your lips once more Then I throw you away
Will you play along Again and Again The Nightmare is gone The Dream will never end
10 am, and I'm freezing Like a sacrificial lamb You can spill my blood But we'll just carry on
12 am when they Take you And I lose you once more Try as I might I just can't seem to care
Will you play along Again


JewelI want to smash something beautiful I want to tear it all to dust Pick you and break you Though it hurts I know I mustJewel
This flame flickers in the dark Fucked up and raving, I leave no mark Scream psycho, Wierdo, Freak Revenge is sweet when you're thought to be weak My Guilt begins to wash over me It's getting dark, Getting dark, I can not see This is for everyone who thinks I'm strange I'm worthless and only belong in a cage
I want to smash something beautiful I want to tear it all to dust Pick you and break you Though it hurts I know I mus


Edges (1 of 2)1 - Intro:Edges (1 of 2)
The wind whispers an electric tone from the city street and somewhere far off something inhuman whispers. "Lost to darkness. Lost to Nothing. Lost to the Empty." I know exactly what it means. I gaze at the blue thing in my hand before throwing it down my throat.
2 - Valiated
I step back from the balcony and collapse onto my couch, the haze already washing over me. Drumloops and Pulsing Bass make me feel warm and fill my head with light. Voices promising feelings echo over and around my head. A Pulse of synt
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A poisonous saint, with a brittle, crippled frame...God is in my heart, and tearing at the seams.
--
the jenben.
+{you're tragically flawed, but you've got a good heart}+
-- Midge.
--
"Right Up Yer Kilt...!"
--
____________
"Fidelity too is not chaste,
Let not your slumber waste"
'Tis Jentastic from TCT, by the way
--
'We're all lying in the gutter, but some of us are looking up at the stars.' - Oscar Wilde
--
My Love in her attire doth show her wit,
It doth so well become her;
For every season she hath dressings fit,
For Winter, Spring, and Summer.
No beauty she doth miss
When all her robes are on:
But Beauty's self she is
When all her robes are gone.
--
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