Rome

Die brandstifter

Rome
You sent for me to punish me
But i'm not yours to save
I never asked for the answer you gave
Are you trying to find
Something pure, something fragile?
Your hopes are stiff with filth

I refuse all gifts
For yours are scented with envy
Go take refuge in the fields
Go nurse your longing in darkness

Are you hoping to find
Something cruel, something sacred

Your hopes are stiff with filth

You admire the lions
You despise all sheep
But following lions
Makes nothing but sheep

You are all bending in the wind

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