sylar545

FrustrationIn my lexicon of hateI see you with your portraitureDoes he love you?Does he love you too?The brush strokesKiss your breasts and toesI cry icicles in my steinThe heartbeats flutterWith an abnormal rhythmThe pain shoots through my bodyA sword between my thighsI wish that I could kill youBut I too love your eyesYou’re feeling less whore but you stimulateThe hatred smolders in your eyesI’d drop to my knees in a secondTo salivate in your thighsBut all I do is fall overI don’t have the strength I once hadIn you and your prickless loverAnd his easel in his eyesI feel the pain creep up my legBlood runs from my noseI puke my guts out at your feetYou’re more man than ITo be dead to have no feelingTo be dry and spermless like a girlI want so much to hurt youI want so much to hurt youI want so much to hurt youMarry meI want you as my wifeSpermless like a girlMore man than IMore man than IFrustrationIn my lexicon of hateYou’re feeling less like a whore but youStimulateAll I do is fall overI don’t have the strength I once hadAll I do is fall overI don’t have the strength I once hadI want you so much to hurt youI want so much to hurt youI want so much to hurt youI want you as a wifeFrustration is my lexicon of hateFrustration is my lexicon of hateFru… fru… frustration, my lexicon of hateI cry iciclesHeartbeats flutterAbnormal rhythm

Bueno no tengo ni idea de como sea el ritmo pero ahi les va la letra de lo nuevo de Loutallica Ice honey:You can’t put a butterfly in a jarIf the effort’s too high no matter who you areYou can’t catch the moon, or the sun or the starsIt doesn’t matter who you areIced honeyNow me I’ve tried a million tricksTo make life cold and make it stickNot running heat that flames then outBut the proud piece of ice that always floatsIced honeyIf I can’t trap a butterfly or a beeIf I can’t keep my heart where I want it to beIf no matter how much soul and heartI put to the woodIf a flaming heart is not that goodIced honeyIf you can’t put a butterfly in a jarIf violence mars your final hourIf you make others feel like jamPoured on a piece of charbroiled lambIf it’s all mixed up and you cannot shoutAnd your oxygen starts to run outIf your final gasp has the recipe wrongAnd instead of hello you say so longIf your energy starts to leak outAnd people wonder what you’re all aboutA heartbreaker with an unattached heartThe story of love gives them all a startAnd me, I’ve always been this wayNot by choice, just this wayI can’t put my honey pot in a jarOr a heart or a fist of some young boyIf you can’t put a butterfly in a jarNo wonder no need to wonder where you areIt might seem like hell, the River StyxYour affection never sticksNo matter what you say, no matter what you doA butterfly heart flies right past youThere’s nothing to say, nothing to doSee if the ice will melt for youIced honeyDragon:You don’t actually careLove for you is no beginningYou’re not really thereHallucinationI thought you were listeningHallucinationI thought you were listeningHallucinationI understand you think you’re above itThe adolescent sense of the skyThe feeling of billowing heartbeatsThe fingertips run through your hairThey run through your hairHallucinationHallucinationOh you think you’re so specialThat there’s no law meant for youYou come and go like the goddess you areWe’re mere mortals belowFingertips run through your hairWe are mere mortals belowAre meant to be peonsAre meant to be servantsAre meant to be dismissible objectsOne fucks withOne fucks withPoor pitiful creatureThe winner in heartbreakThe winner in caringThe winner in every miniscule method of wearingYour heart on your sleeveA red star of idiocyAn idiot’s idiocyMy, my caring for youCaring for youDo you think we’re a bookSome kind of a tableYou can rest your feet on when you’re ableRed star of idiocyAn idiot’s idiocyMy caring for youPoor pitiful creatureTo notice the piningThe self deprivationThe self flagellation of youDear worshippersWe do like you regalWe do like you haughtyWe do love to look upon your perfect bodyThe hair on your shouldersThe smell of your armpitThe taste of your vulva and everything on itWe all really love youAnd you have no meaningYou don’t even see usYou were never caringYou go do what you doYou do it for youNo one exists with youYou’re way above caringLeave a trail upon the wakeThat no one ever tries to takeBecause waiting for youThinking of youIs another way of dyingIs another way of dyingI’m clawing your chest‘Til your collarbone bleedsPiercing your nipples ‘til I bite them offI scratch your face and bite your shouldersWay above caringWay above caringAnd your Kotex jukeboxYour Kotex jukeboxI’m doomed, I’m swearingWaiting for youIn your high heels and nightieYour leather dress squeakingLatex now sweating, waiting for youIn your tinctureYour opium white bathrobeYour white tiles run red nowAre we both dead now?The liquid exchange of our heartThe liquid exchange of our heartAre we both dead now?You’re way above caringYour heart on your sleeveA red star of idiocyAn idiot’s idiocyMy caringMy caring for youMy caring for youYou’re way beyond caringYour heart on your sleeveA red star of idiocyAn idiot’s idiocyMy caring for youOblivious to caringOblivious to caringOblivious to caringLeave a trail upon the wakeThat no one ever tries to takeBecause waiting for youBecause thinking of youIs another way of dyingYou’re way above caringOblivious to caringOblivious to caringYou poor pitiful creatureThe mistake of feelingThe one who rejects you is the winner,It’s trueThe winner in heartbreakThe winner in caringThe winner in every miniscule method of wearingYour heart on your sleeveA red star of idiocyAn idiot’s idiocyYour heart on your fuckin’ sleeveMy caring for youWe were meant to be peonsWe’re meant to be peonsMere mortals belowMeant to be servantsMeant to be dismissible objects one fucks withOh, oh, oh you’re so specialNo law meant for youYou come and go like the goddess you areThe fingertips run through your hairA billowing heart beatsFeelingFeelingWhat a glorious feelingTo be so rejectedSo rejectedAn idiot’s idiocyMy caring for youYou think I’m a book or a tableYou can rest your fuckin’ feet onWhen you’re ableThe taste of your vulva, everything on itThe hair on your shouldersThe smell of your armpitWe do love you, to look upon your perfect bodyWe love you regalWe love you haughtyOblivious to caringOblivious to caringCaringOh my dearOh my dearOh my dearOblivious to caringAre we really dead now?Are we both dead now?