Through The Eyes Of The Dead

Broken glass is the reason she'll remember my face
now she is imprisoned in a land
not for the weakened heart
a land filled with miles of fire
and the lamb dine on the priest
you can't save her 62 reasons to
remember my face this is my idea
of beauty laid to rest beneath a blanket
of leaves waiting for an angel to come
save her from this burning paradise an
indelicate display of lacerations across her body
this is my idea of beauty you cant' save her