Church pews, sunshine Dinners ready, chickens fried Children laughing, momma's singin' Dogs a barkin', grandpa's swingin'
Anyone seen Hannah?
Oh, she's down at the creek Castin' a line, dippin' her feet. Watermelons drippin' sticky Ya'll lick them fingers, don't be picky! Southern hospitality, come be our guest Six more days to Sundays rest.
True, sweet "nothing's" her heart may tend to recite... But if it's "proof" that you seek, she'd rather take her own life. Her butterflies are demons in a Midsummer Nights hell, who are you to put a value on emotion... whats fake what's real? By all means judge the scars that line her "God forsaken" wrists, and all the dark she's ever known, Satan's plot with mans twist. Then go screw yourself with your egotistical fuse... She doesnt write to be your siren, your seduction... your muse. Her pen is her escape, and you my friend a selfish prick. Guess she...
I close my eyes and drift away.. The warm sun sending my eyelids into a heavy slumber. If it were possible to remove this yoke of gravity, I'd let this warm breeze dance with my listless body.
And yet...here still I lay
Cotton dress against blue-grey skies, as golden strands worship in waves the God of heaven. I too worship the God of Heaven, but in this moment I day dream in flesh, where alone needs her Adam...for even Adam had Eve.
What have I done so wrong in this life? Or is this also vanity and ego speaking? Do you know God, I...
Wicked eyes with motives deep Smiling lips through evil seeps Witches fight over beautiful heart Do we smile and give her love, or shall we rip her apart? Let's use her forgiveness, we know she won't speak We'll laugh as she cries from turning the cheek At the point of death we'll revive her again To make sure she knows we were never her friend