Magnati - Sycamour

Good evening, Mr. Mattel

We’ve found this tripe in your house

Where’s that place you?

What’s that make you?

If you’ve got «nothing to hide»

We’ve still got something to find

You can change your mind

But you’re on borrowed time

Lives are on the line

The blood’s on you and me

Lives are on the line

So I need you to speak up

This is an offer and not an option

Count backward from ten

I might as well O.D.

Akin to a friend.

A name I’d confess that would make me a mess: Persephone.

Queen of my fire, the underworld’s eye & apple of mine.

Oh, you thought you saw my soul.

Paid for, traded, and sold.

I may not be so bold after all.

Hang my head above my bedroom window

Lights from the street beckon

Me to love all I despise, why?

My mistress, my heart beats for you.

I’m distressed, all I need was you.

Give it up

So what does that make me?

A rat?

A fiend?

A «You-never-knew-the-regret-I-would-be?»

A 1−2-3, switched up loyalty

But in a sea of bleeding, I’ve got buoyancy

Time’s up: You’ve wasted enough of mine.

Now, I’ll go back over this: One last time.

Martyrs won’t keep them alive

We don’t take kindly to espionage or treason.

Give it up boy.

Save yourself from the:

Retribution that descends on the fallen.

There’s no sense in finding out

What you can do nothing about.

Heresy and infestation of these thoughts can break the chains of

Status quo that maintains curtains;

wool over the eyes of burdened,

Broken people with no future short of cremation and sutures,

Cold steel tables ending fables, lies that keep the hope alive.