[352x489]Настроение сейчас - gadding around live

              †††

does the thorn you put closed me to be a mess?
should I tear it inside my scull 'till the death? 

hammer a nail right into my holed chest

I don't ask for mercy, since I ve got your pest

hunt is over, hunters got their witch
tide my head into the iron grips
washing the blood from your hungry lips
would you pour some water on my feet?

putting piece of silver to you knees 
I ask to head and brain me please
buy me out for a monkey's kiss
crucify me if it cures your disease

                 Would I become an unnamed god
                 Just by gadding around your yard?

don’t think of me like I m a girl from the farm
I m witched good enough to be burn down
tall the bell and bring the cross falls to ground
killing in me a preacher of an unnamed town