maandag 4 juni 2012

dinner on the grave of my old man: A christmas story


A time of glee a time of hope
Filled with stars and snowy slopes
The birth of Christ a godly heir
And joy and laughter everywhere…


But in my heart it feels so cold
My Christmas isn’t as foretold
Another wound in mother’s chest
And alcohol on fathers breathe
Again December with this prick
Yes Christmas it can suck my dick

And maybe I won’t feel alone
If celebrated on my own
No father I am not your slave
I’ll recreate it on your grave
And turn it back as it was in old
To a Christmas as once was foretold

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