Sin of the Century
These hallways are haunted by the angel of death
The One Reaper, creeping forth, craving your breath
Ravens, they wept, the scorpions huddled for cover
& skies quivered and silenced their rumbling thunder
Subtle, he muttered psalms of some mysterious Hell
So eerie by the backdrop of the fifth period bell
Other kids played video games - while he would sit, sickly and strange
Indifferent to play while his soul was drifting away
That infinite gaze - just a phase, how would he know otherwise
Other kid's act just as strange he'd heard so from the other guys
This troubled guise - just an act for attention? It had to be
"This is only my son," he thought "Not like he's some walking catastrophe.."
The first ones fell like bluebirds hit by arrowhead rocks
The next ones just watched, froze in harrowing shock
It's no gradual drop to carrion rot - even post-graduates got
Their futures written in the current - victims all the sudden
That feel of hot steel was like those foreign laughs
He had long ago, as he began storming the cafe
He tried to connect - to the thing inside of his chest
Tried to reach towards the secrets his son silently kept
What's a father to do? - there was no universal coffer of truth
Holding ancient ways to fatherhood he should probably use
Continue doing his best - the only option, fuck hospital wards
Fuck intemperate therapists, fuck my son being lost in the world
He made them pray - the Hail Mary riding the beat of a ***kle
Lined them up to the back wall, like a leader of cattle
And unleashed a disaster - watching them fall to the floor
Then he lead himself outside, to face all of the world
Purpose to void - his heart burning, destroyed, as destiny
Came from policemen store their weaponry
He was crying - illustrating the sins of the father, bezerk
Whispering "if only... i made it work"
|