He's conflicting. A walking paradox, I must say. He is stars growing under one's skin and a darkness engulfing the soul. A raging storm one minute and a kiss of a morning sun the next. The taste of soft ice cream sometimes and the taste of tar other times. The sight of fresh sunflowers and then a wilted field of them. He is a conundrum. But...
Nothing ever feels better
or even equal to what he possess,
life envy's him I tell you,
and words fail me to address
what a force he seizes,
imprinting it on souls
disastrous perfection,
a celestial I suppose
nothing ever feels better,
I cross my heart on that,
Eden kneels before him
leaving God far behind.
Nothing ever feels better
or even equal to what he possess,
life envy's him I tell you,
and words fail me to address
what a force he seizes,
imprinting it on souls
disastrous perfection,
a celestial I suppose
nothing ever feels better,
I cross my heart on that,
Eden kneels before him
leaving God far behind.