The hour glass has almost run out, The hour glass will soon make you die out. For the shattered hearts of which you speak, The shattered heart of which you seek, Will come down and take yours away. Great pain is which thy bring, Great pain is what will take thee away. And as your sands of time run out, Your soul is in great doubt, For you have a silent shout. And as your time runs out, Like a wound clock that's wound ran out, My shredding fear comes running out. Out for you with a wicked time, For your sands of time have almost run out. And yet a gin the hour glass has almost run out, And soon will you be dead
Originally Posted On Site: 2010-05-14 09:29:09
Last Login: 05.14.10
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