Mistweaver
(M. K„rki)
I put the 9mm glock to your head
and gently squeese the trigger
blowing out your [fucking] brains
on the wall in all kind of crazy figures
So what are you gonna do now
you piece of shit
(you're such a ???)
how (fucking) stupid can a man be
you've should have known better
Weaving my world
from the cord of your soul
as i slowly fuck
the bullet exit hole
through the funeral mist
I drag you to my temple
dead yet so alive
living in my dreams
Nothing brings me greater joy
than the memory of when I
wiped that smile from your lips
the look of horror in your eyes
as I pulled out a gun
and pointed it at your [fucking] face
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