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I Already See It by Kye Kye
You and I
It doesn’t come at once
You and I
See for yourself where it goes
Sit and stare, take your time, I already see it
Fantasize, Fantasize
For everything to fall into picture
You and I
It doesn’t come at once
You and I
See for yourself where it goes
Speak, I’ll wait
Subtle breeze in quiet patterns
I realize, realize
Soak it in
Love is accepted.
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Queen of the Damned
Enter the Ghost Lake.
The waters whisper
Of something brooding.
No way out of here.
Slow smouldering,
Slow rain[ing] heat.
Lapping at your skin
Pulling you down again.
I wish that I could
Fan back to life
The dying embers
Of my long lost passion.
Descending deeper.
With black as my light.
With twist and turn.
All men will be tried in life.
We look for light to call.
The call to save us all.
Lest we fall to our knees.
The death, we kiss his feet.
Oh, sacred mother come.
For our fate is done.
In blindness do we run
Always backwards.
The care of many
Was lost in my hands.
The sickness came in
Floods of torment and woe.
My withered body.
Aching and bone tired.
My christ who art lord.
Hold me down again.
Knee bent and head held low.
Eyes closed against my foe.
In prayer I sing on low.
Answers to my last call.
Oh, sacred father come.
For it is you who's done.
In blindness do we [signs "you will"] run.
And be sure not to fall.
Oh, christ, what have I done?
Ill fortune now will come.
Fire raining from the sun.
All virtue swept away.
In floods of blackest death.
The ghost will take my breath.
My sins I will forget.
I am nothing again.
Exit the Ghost Lake.
the waters silent.
What now has risen?
No man stands alone.
The world is changing.
'Tis misery who
Leads our way now.
Holding man down.
“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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Queen of the Damned
Every step we take that's synchronized
Every broken bone
Reminds me of the second time
That I followed you home
You shower me with lullabies
As you're walking away
Reminds me that it's killing time
On this fateful day
See you at the bitter end
“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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Queen of the Damned
She has the silence deep in her breasts embraced
She wears a perfume of a truly vicious taste.
She has the wisdom in her empathic eyes.
She knows the truth to all unspoken lies.
She says she'd sell her angel for a dream
She says that she is not who she might seem
She says that she has lost her self-esteem
She says that she will not give up her dream
She offers traitors her lap to feel like home.
She masters violence as if she fears no one.
She makes your anger turn into quiet tears.
She makes you laugh about intimate fears.
She hears the voices that tell me what to do.
She looks into our eyes, but only smiles at you.
She knows the warmth she feels is not for long.
She stopped to speak that's why I end this song.
"It's kind of funny, you know...
'cause I'm not really here for your psycho games
Little demons make your eyes turn silver, you freak!
Your lips are turning blue
No, this is really not my kind of stimulation
No, this is not a proper treatment
Life? You can have it if you want!
It doesn't mean anything to me, anyway, you freak!"
“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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Queen of the Damned
Terror
This is what you call me
I strike terror among men
I can't be bothered by what they think
I bare my cross, my soul, myself
I forgive, but I never forget
I've been put upon this earth in female form
But I can handle myself with the best of you
As well as the worst
And I often have
I have the right to remain silent
But I choose to speak, sing, scream
I am lips, hips, tits
I am the power of a woman
Strong like music
True like friendship
But without my friends
There would be no music
Only spoken word
I am able to change
So I live without regret
Without remorse, only a remix
I am drunk, I am sober
Heaven doesn't want me
And Hell's afraid I'll take over
Don't bother trying to censor me
Or shut me up, because it won't work
I am cold and distant
Yet warm and close
To those who deserve to see that side of me
Part of me, the heart of me
You find me so hard to understand in your world
The world you perceive to be so normal
I am deformed, scorned, reborn
I am me, and I know exactly who I am, what I am
And the wrath I bring, the ugly beauty
The lying truth, the virgin whore, the quiet storm
A lover, a fighter, a saint, a sinner
A sister, a daughter, old school, a beginner
I have decorated myself
With love, hate, truth, you
All of you, both of you, none of you
More than one of you
With lips like sugar, eyes like mead
I've watched men
Come and go and cheat
I sleep to dream and dream of sleep
I had a dream, Joe
That you were standing in the middle of an open grove
I had a dream, Joe
That your hands were raised up to the sky
And your mouth was covered in foam
I've been crucified, justified
And mortified by my behavior
Both feminine, and masculine
I am a contradiction and juxtaposition
My relief is my release
And only time will tell
All's well that ends well
I am unsweetened, unclean
Been called drama queen
Ex-girlfriend, ex-member
The tantrum, the temper
I point my finger, take the blame
And this time I will own the name
Because no one is going to ruin me
If I have to, I will ruin myself
And it will be my ruin (my ruin)
“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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