IRC-Galleria

There's a man in this world,
Who has never smiled
He may know his tragedy,
The later years, by heart
In the beginning there was a mother, father and a child
He troubled little silent boy, whose life they were to destroy
Known to us from this day on, like his father, Caleb

His mother came up with such a clever way to save the day with a little white lie.
He thinks he missed the point back then, but now he's grown to understand it, in a way.

"Father said "I'm sorry" only once, as I remember"
"The words were not meant to hurt, only destroy you, my stupid son..."
One person can make a difference, sometimes...
Just turn his head when the kid is still and has a weak neck.

Smiled at his funeral, "happy you're dead."

All his solutions, it seemed, were only problems in disguise
Glueing on his drinkin' face, got ready to erase another day...

Mother was yet confident, although they had it tight, taught her son
At the end of every tunnel's a little light.
It wasn't a lie, it was her hope, that everything would be fine one day
"He can fulfill his every dream, I'm happy as long as he's not."

"I hate it and fear can't face it
the child is not right, he's my greatest shame

Go out, create thunder, and stand right under
That old apple tree
Where dead snakes let him feed on those

Lost hopes, all those kind words could hurt him even more, now
Somehow, lost one more way back home

Out on the lake, he rows towards a monster he should've been running away from, years ago.
The past had made him blind to the way he'd turned the pain into a way of life.

Followed his father, tucked him in, Caleb knows the trade.
He's the portrait of a man his mother drew to hate forever.
She was a beast, a deadly saint, wrong in many ways
Wanted to keep up the charade, until the end waltzing together

Over the hills, under the sea,
Fighting the will, whole Universe
Why does a man driving a hearse
Live in fear, Gift and a Curse

Taking 'em out, taking 'em all,
Shooting the wall, over and out
When nothing moves, all's well,
A decision he can find a way to live with

...and dried up flowers are so beautiful.
And it applies to all things living, and dead.
For that I serve my time... in my suite in Hell.

"Now I ring the bell to tell the world,
I'm ready when they bring out the soon to be dead against the wall ..."
oo-oo-ooo
This necessary evil has no heart
ooo-oo-ooo
Flowers and people he will now enlace
A price he must pay serving a cold
...whatevergod.