I once walked upon the sandy shores of your shallow soul,
The closer I sauntered towards your heart,
My blood ran cold,
The desperation running through your veins,
Caused a tremor down my spine,
When we cross on the boulevard the smell of deceit,
Tunes my senses,
It is said a magician never reveals his secret,
The same would apply to the tramp that stands on the corner of
Grape and Vine,
As I pondered your feeble operation for accusation
I twisted an arrogant smile across my icy expression.
If I erudite anything from your corrupted essence,
It is that its not the wealth that makes the man,
Its that desire for conflict
Never forget,
The tree that bears no fruit,
Holds no burden.
The closer I sauntered towards your heart,
My blood ran cold,
The desperation running through your veins,
Caused a tremor down my spine,
When we cross on the boulevard the smell of deceit,
Tunes my senses,
It is said a magician never reveals his secret,
The same would apply to the tramp that stands on the corner of
Grape and Vine,
As I pondered your feeble operation for accusation
I twisted an arrogant smile across my icy expression.
If I erudite anything from your corrupted essence,
It is that its not the wealth that makes the man,
Its that desire for conflict
Never forget,
The tree that bears no fruit,
Holds no burden.
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