Testo di The Willing Well III - Apollo I: The Writing Writer

In these words that crash my ears I now stomach this with fear With my turn I gathered name as the bastard's son Who by fire I would come Through these wires I must cut Atop this tower of loss and lust I'll gravitate towards you I will, in the now, hate you I'll make you wish you hadn't burned our time before I'll live through this in a manner cursed at my own accord If my shame spills our worth across this floor Then tonight, goodnight... I'm burning Star IV Only I don't even think of you No I don't want to think of you anymore Goodnight, tonight, goodbye Goodnight, tonight, goodbye In my presence you might wake Through this fiction I must fake Your death to grace the face of my character With these lessons he might learn That all worlds from here must burn For as God demands in the end we miss I don't want to go So come on bitch, why aren't you laughing now? You left me here to fend on my own