Murder In The Rye
Aerodyne
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The fear of death is an idol made of solid gold
Through an open wound you can see my tortured soul
Mother said love would sweeten my bile
As an adult I know it's just a lie
Just a fucking lie to make me kneel
Reaching higher like extacy
I'm teaching fire, you're gonna see that I
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Strike to touch the sky
One more to make you cry
Like a murder in the rye
Lay down and die
Now the chains of life has reduced me to a stain
But noone's gonna love you like my fist love's your face