Evil 歌词

Blindfolded, I make frail works of art God looks at me and laughs at me I run to the precipice, faster and faster I know, I'm about to fall They don't know, they don't think They know nothing of victory They know nothing of defeat To be popular one must be a mediocrity Life has always poppies in her hands Beautiful winged butterfly How long do you have left to live? Once I was like you, but now I feel like Evil Nobody loves my perfection So I hide myself in my work of art I see myself naked and fragile And make fun of you, blind creatures Art, like a mirror Like a rorschach test Life mimics theatre But fiction is safer Life has always poppies in her hands Beautiful winged butterfly How long do you have left to live? Once I was like you, but now I feel like Evil Do you want to live a mark? Yes, I do! Will you sign with the devil? With my blood! Are you looking for a meaning? It doesn't exist! Art is a pain cry before death! I will suffer for this gift of God! You'll suffer horribly! I wanna make the grade! Are you sure? For what is man profited if he shall gain the whole world And lose his soul? People look at me and realize it, my eyes have changed Every impulse that we strive to strangle broads in the mind and poisons us Each of us has heaven and hell in him What the worms to the corpses, my sins to the painted image Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might bloom Evil is a mode through which I can realize my conception of the beautiful The emblem of my shame If I kill the portrait, I kill myself