| The Devil's Armor I am but hald the man I once was trapped and rotting, slowly rotting, in this place. I am plaqued with dreams of glory, but my waking life is a nightmare never leaving me. Theres one last chance to save me from this tomb. And I'll take my chances if only to break free. I will not rot here. NO! I WILL NOT ROT HERE! I'll put on the Armor, the Devil's Armor, and red is all I see. I was half the man i once was but only a tenth of the man I'll be. I dream dreams of glory rimmed red, and the Devil watches me instead, But the Fates have left me, and my friend lies broken on the ground his blood on my hand. The Devil laughs, SUCH A HOLLOW SOUND! I have changed I see by the reflextion in the mirror. The voice of reason it will not reach me, I turn my back as he walks near. Don't try to reach me. I do not hear. Theres only one voice in my ear. The Devil's Armor encases me. ...and red is all I see |
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| The Scarlet Letter
The Guilty one that seals his soul and taunts his heart is I, and I am falling apart trapped in bondage by my sin. And I am the Speaker for God but will not speak out my own crime hiding in the dark. So in the dark I bind my sin to my flesh and through that pain I seek peace. But a fiend stalks me everywhere I go lashing at the sanctity of my mind. ALL IS FALSE HOOD! ALL IS EMPTINESS! ALL IS DEATH! But I am the Speaker for God and must cry out my sin. I must taste sweet. But only through redemption, ONLY THROUGH REDEMPTION! TO THE SCAFFOLD!
Now will you Kiss My cheek little one? |
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| No Kidding <?>
Sit up straight boy you think im kidding?
I've got no time with lives in my hand.
Dont screw with me boy or I'll screw up your
face. I've got no time I'm trying hard
to make this stand.
You think I'm kidding boy?
Then lets kid as I load this gun. |
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| War Poem War is hell or so the say,
But I fint it better the forking hay Back on the farm I worked all day
Then went to bed where I lay And drempt about being grand
Instead of groveling, in dirt and sand But when the War came I saw my chance
Now I'm somebody who recieves a second glance The bards they sing out my life
How a farm boy became great through strive How he dreamed of being someone grand
instead of toiling by his hand Jon Stave |
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| Procrastination
Lack of sleep will take its toll
But thats the last thing i am thinking
I put it off time and again and wound up in this hole
So much to do so much time I waste
I'll work right though the night
So much to do so much time I waste
Oh Lord why do I even try to win this fight
Jon Stave |
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