It is wretched, it is fatal
It is glorious, it is brilliant.
To enjoy life's finer details,
To enjoy what commonfolk cannot.
Ooh to indulge in pleasures,
Pleasures so sacred, no man can buy them.
An experience no man can put a price on.
To hate with a hatred so cruel,
Because you have been robbed,
Robbed of perfection of the object you once worshipped.
A robbery so stealth, ordinary men will not notice the difference.
It is wretched, it is fatal
It is glorious, it is brilliant
No comments:
Post a Comment