In the Shadows of your evil thoughts'
Wary I grew,
Weights slowing my feet,
Yet quickening mine heart,
the thoughts of another day,
Eyes hidden from sunrise,
Night fall a routine surprise,
Still never to a good fill,
So less it compares to his slumber,
The King thinks asleep.
In this days slavery,
Feet touched all ground,
Voice bounced of all ear drum,
Mending thine faults,
Lest astray thy toungue throw us,
Chasing the clockI race,
So a harvest grain from hasks u plant,
Still never insight of the brim,
So minute it compares to his noise,
The king acts in the mouth.
Upon my cross,
My feet tire of the hang,
Wounds bleed my heart,
With no rest a gong plays in dear head,
For a big sum I cash in,
the acts of mine sweat earn,
Penitence I must seek,
Still should feel the whip,
Much my evil defeats his deeds,
The devil is pure.
In the wake of the truth, the facts we believed prove true our foolishness"
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