I'm trying to find the words to describe your old age youth. Wisdom does not retire. but theres something I'm not saying to you. There's this awkward feeling that i might be alone with only the bones in my body. Them, naked beneath my skin and my upmost being trapped inside your lies of absolute perfection. O' the ease at which you hide. Maybe, perhaps, something went wrong with the way things were suppose to be. Have we hit the glitch? Are we ten to nothing on the scale of rott?
Who knows the anwser? Because i sure do not. I called the departments, now i call on your soul. The more i get to know him, the more i feel cold.
I mark the height of perfection next to the devil himself. Who stands no taller then some pretend to be. You hold no more "sin" then me myself and I, makes three.