[Alex]

Can you see it? The string that’s hung in front of my face,
Do you smell it? It’s awful right down to the taste.
You say you are good. Why are we done to like this?
I say another death is waiting to happen at last.

(chorus)
This creature that dangles our lives on a thread,
It’s almost as if he delivers the dead.
We must sell ourselves,
No, now we must sell this hell.

Who is he to blame?
Have we even asked him of his name?
Who are we to judge him?
Did we stop to think that these were our sins?

(chorus)
This creature that dangles our lives on a thread,
It’s almost as if he delivers the dead.
Well are we the broken, the shaken, the fed,
Or have we destroyed, have we honored the bled.

A sacrifice that we must make,
To ensure that he just might not take,
Our souls and offer them to him,
Our sins, this treatment,
now near, is the end.

(chorus)
This creature that dangles our lives on his simple thread,
It’s as if we believe he delivers the dead.
And now I hope that, you can see,
That we are the broken, that the dead are we.

[Phonoho]

You have an interesting style that many of us found hard to take to initially. An occasional randomness in some of your lines gives the impression of haphazard composition and lack of control in regards to word selection and adherence to your intended subject. You're getting better, I must say.

[Alex]

Thank you.

[Lubesh]

I alwasy liked ur curious style - don't lose that....and this was a pleaure to post. You have enthusiasm well done alex!

[Alex]

don't lose that....

I will try not to. Thank You.