The soul is in my belly
Will it ever be happy
And not just for the time being
Is there a sight to this seeing?
A sight to change my world?
To a world that’s not stolen or killed?
Can I sight it in my mind?
And transplant this new world in kind
Is there a be to this being?
Something a little more freeing
Something to acquire mind aura
Something to calm me of the story
Something to grant me the grandeur
Grant me the old style of fictional noir
Grant me peace and no bloodshed
I reek of bloodshed, I’ve killed many heads
All in defense but all an offense
I’m not asking for forgiveness
Grant me the serenity of my penance
And hate no more of me, good riddance