March
Friday 9 October 2009 photo 1/1
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Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow man is either a fool or a coward. Whoever cannot take care of himself without that law is both. For a wounded man shall say to his assailant, "If I Live, I will kill you. If I Die, You are forgiven." Such is the Rule of Honor.
Broken the paradigm an example must be set.
Invoke the Siren's song and sign the death warrant.
This is what has been wrought for 30 pieces of silver.
The tongues of men and angels bought by a beloved betrayer.
I am the result, what's better left unspoken.
Violence begins to mend what was broken.
You've been talking, I've been all ears.
Words meant to dwell in darkness shall never see the light of day.
Words can be broken so can bones, execute the mandate.
Mouth full of dirt your name is removed from the registry.
St. Peter greets with empty eyes then turns and locks the gate.
I am the result, what's better left unspoken.
Violence begins to mend what was broken.
You've been talking, I've been all ears.
Omerta.
Cheaply venal, stupidly verbose.
A slip of the tongue, a slit of the throat.
Six feet under with no marker.
Keep my name from your mouth forever.
Free speech for the living, dead men tell no tales.
Your laughing finger will never point again.
Omerta.
Omerta.
Sing for me now.
Broken the paradigm an example must be set.
Invoke the Siren's song and sign the death warrant.
This is what has been wrought for 30 pieces of silver.
The tongues of men and angels bought by a beloved betrayer.
I am the result, what's better left unspoken.
Violence begins to mend what was broken.
You've been talking, I've been all ears.
Words meant to dwell in darkness shall never see the light of day.
Words can be broken so can bones, execute the mandate.
Mouth full of dirt your name is removed from the registry.
St. Peter greets with empty eyes then turns and locks the gate.
I am the result, what's better left unspoken.
Violence begins to mend what was broken.
You've been talking, I've been all ears.
Omerta.
Cheaply venal, stupidly verbose.
A slip of the tongue, a slit of the throat.
Six feet under with no marker.
Keep my name from your mouth forever.
Free speech for the living, dead men tell no tales.
Your laughing finger will never point again.
Omerta.
Omerta.
Sing for me now.
Visa toppen
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