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Black Dirt
What am i?
But a mind full of thoughts
And limbs with no action
There is no place for a someone like that
In this hell we call earth
There is no purpose for a someone like that
In this dread we call life.
So bury me here
With a rusty brown shovel
But do not bring me flowers
Do not damage the ground
For something under the black dirt.
© All Rights Reserved
But a mind full of thoughts
And limbs with no action
There is no place for a someone like that
In this hell we call earth
There is no purpose for a someone like that
In this dread we call life.
So bury me here
With a rusty brown shovel
But do not bring me flowers
Do not damage the ground
For something under the black dirt.
© All Rights Reserved
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