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Indian Ate the Woodchuck

de Neonfly

Morning has broken;
You stare at the clouds from your windowpane
Voices that fade in the mist,
You try to call out in vain
Lost in the shadows
Whilst standing at the crossroads heavily burdened
Came forth a vision with a message so clear

You can borrow beg or steal, but...
If you care to make a deal
Listen to the devil's trill
I'll play for your sole delight
Now come and take my hand
Until you meet your end
I swear to be your servant

Fire, fire, I'll be waiting by your funeral pyre
Fire down below. Burn in,
Fire, fire, I'll grant you what your heart desires
Rest and be assured,
I will!

Young heart of gold you've been warned,
You've been told not to call his name
Stuck in this place for so long,
Enthralled by a fake romance
Lost for a lifetime

There's no way out of here you're caught in a landslide
The hall of whispered dreams where heretics dance
Silent cursed and alone you dwell
Rebuked for a thousand years
Ending your life in tears
Vanquished by all your fears
Cast out of eden's garden
And robbed of all pardon!

You can borrow beg or steal, but...
If you care to make a deal
Listen to the devil's trill
And walk with me once more.
Waiting by your funeral pyre
Burning flames to fuel the fire

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