OJB: Absinthe
Absinthe
In pain; world-weary, are ye? Burdened. Weighted with worry? Clouds clotting your sky, Every morning; you wake wishing to die~
Not me, not me; Y'see; I'm free, From your kind of tyranny~
Liquid oh-so green It is numbing. Now life you will dream, What would death really mean?
Our faces prosthetic Our smiles are untrue, And yes; I know you Want an anesthetic too!