Tales of Tongues and Wines of Whispers

SCREAMING:
Don’t give into his demands,
For they only damage untainted palms.

Banished and condemned to forever rot.
His throne built off of materialism,
Sinking deep in under obsession.
Fallen star, risen sun,
Given fame, stolen fortune.
Ascended up to fall back down,
Upon his knees, upon the ground.
Accursed sinner of the holy,
Accursed sinner of the damned.

SOFT VOICE:
Days are wasted and he’s the king of them,
Only hatred feeds his appetite.
He is blinded by his power,
Convicted to his tortured soul,
And if mercy could shine down upon him,
He would trade it in for greed,
‘Cause hatred isn’t free.

SCREAMING:
In this war of lions and snakes,
Only one can remain.
Cleanse the soul, clean the womb,
A healing virtue of the cruel.
These voices fall empty,
Upon his deaf ears.
These whispers lay broken,
With every coming year.
So hold on and don’t let go.

SOFT VOICE:
Days are wasted and he’s the king of them,
Only hatred feeds his appetite.
He is blinded by his power,
Convicted to his tortured soul,
And if mercy could shine down upon him,
He would trade it in for greed,
‘Cause hatred isn’t free.
Don’t fall to the blackened sun,
For he holds a poison in his hands,
Claiming it’s the cure.
Don’t give into his demands,
For they only damage untainted palms.