Therapy for the Appointed Man
by Remains of the Day· from Hanging on Rebellion
They can't see you anymore, nor wipe the blood off your face
They fiend off feeding you no escape
What is this love?
The love that brought you down to your knees and left you sinking six feet deep
What is emotion, what is this love?
Therapy for the appointed man
Likes to hear your stories but he never understands
In the depths of his winters he's sure to find you in cold blood
This is the tyranny of the man
There's no time to forget all or the sorrow that was kept
Hidden so cleverly in a knife that is now bleeding me to death,
Killed by cold, despotic love