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A piece written about a cause of one of the lowest points of my life. |
[Introduction]
A piece written about a cause of one of the lowest points of my life. A pig gained its wings today and finally learned to fly But oddly enough at the exact same time, so many great things died A hopeful singer lost his voice Many dreams were killed So many structures fell that simply cannot rebuild An angel was left to die from it demon arose So many heart filled tears were cried A girl's true evil was exposed Many doubtful thoughts entered the priest's mind But he had given so much up that he couldn't just change his mind He continued on in an attempt to teach his ways But his only follower never even tried She proudly held her head up high as their fucking fish died A valentines gift symbolic for nothing but wasted time This love had been worn down between god and his child Yet she pretended that she couldn't understand why... Why did things fall apart, why did hopes die? Why did hearts tear and break, and why did the priest cry? So much left in dust and so much dust entirely gone So many days wrongly spent and too many gun shots dead-on So goddamn many plans of sabbatoge seemingly predrawn A pig gained its wings and finally learned to fly Yet far too many great things died But worst of all what caused the fall of everyone alive Was when John Withal seemed to have spoken too soon, That night God from the heavens cried As the pig we were all so proud of, lost its wings and died |
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