8/19/12
Sweet Singer
There must be thousands of fish in this water.
Twenty four million hats.
I'm not really sure if we are supposed to be here.
Seems like forever since the rightous man came.
Correctly deciding we couldn't' save ourselves.
Then the world was left to us.
The wasters.
The criminals.
The selfish.
The prideful.
A few come and go through the years.
Speaking the truth and crying out to the lost.
They are hated.
They are destroyed.
Everybody wants truth.
They say anyway.
Hear that?
That's truth coming home.
A sweet singer.
Mugshot
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