Death Line Dance
Death Line Dance
Open sore once more
Seething hate I feel for you.
Ripped open, torn once more
Pain and sorrow rain down.
Misery creeps in and the
Horrid stench of molten flesh,
Caustic aroma burning my eyes.
No knowlege of what will come next.
Is it you? Is it me? Who’s next?
Who’s next in line? Who’s next to die?
Spreading lies, not feeling a thing
Continually striving to produce
The cream of the crap.
You are lying in wait to snap.
Is it you? Is it me?
So tell me, who’s next?
Who’s next in line? Who’s next to die?
Writhing in torment to great to bear
Screams of pain, yet you’re going nowhere
Move where you may, promenading down the line
Aristocratic pirouette dripping with indignity.
Bred by the innate desire of self.
So tell me who’s next
Who’s next in line?
Who’s next to die?
Who’s next to try the death line dance?
- Isaac DeLeon 2001
