A Martyr’s death.

My tears flowing in the ocean,
Oh baby, can you go and get em?

Thy love is all I care for,
won’t let your tears emerge,
but for a person who’s dead,
its hard to wipe those cheeks,
its hard to be a shoulder,
its hard to stroke your hair back,
its hard to love,
and its hard to hate,
though the terrorists blew me apart,
My body’s but shredded chords!
Oh love, pray stop those tears,
don’t let em escape.

I died a martyrs death,
bless my with a fragrant wreath!


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