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Queen of the Damned
It's still getting worse after everything I tried
What if I found a way to wash it all aside
What if she touches with those fingertips
As the words spill out like fire from her lips
If she says come inside I'll come inside for her
If she says give it all I'll give everything to her
I am justified
I am purified
I am sanctified
Inside you
Heaven's just a rumor she'll dispel.
As she walks me through the nicest parts of hell.
I still dream of lips I never should have never kissed
Well she knows exactly what I can't resist
I'm still caught up in another of her spells
Oh fuck, she's turning me into someone else
Everyday I hope and pray this will end
But when I can I do it all again
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
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Here we are, far beyond the distant sky
We've seen all the worlds, and how the story will be told
Through the snow and tainted mountains we have climbed
Now we have found the light that guides us over
Through the falling rain, we've travelled far and wide
And through the blackest darkness, stars above shining bright
Through the sun and winter, rain will fall
All our lives, we have been waiting for a sign to call
We're walking hand in hand, in dreams of endless time
How do we know when we will leave this life behind?
Staring life through eyes of mine,
The hate, the fear, and the pain,
There's a feeling held deep inside,
When life we lived is in vain
Fly away, down the lonely roads of yesterday
Close your eyes, and see the light of brighter days
And all alone we'll be, where time can never heal,
With a trail of broken hearts flying free
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Queen of the Damned
Closed eyed, sky wide open
Unlimited girl, unlimited sigh
Elsewhere, indefinitely far away
Magnifies and deepens
Ready to sing
My sixth sense peacefully placed on my breath
And listening
(Keeps me from my hurt)
My ears know that my eyes are closed
(Perish thoughts like contraband)
I train myself in martial arts
As advertised
I reinforce my softened parts
As advertised
See through me, little glazed lane
A world in myself
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
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