Bellow the carriage holds seven magnets.
Each stick traces a new born and tarnishes.
Plate of slander docking each bolt it progresses.
Striving only speaks louder when how you crave fault.
Cold pours over heavy when it strikes your outer body.
Frustrated? I know I can be quite a handful.
I don’t know about you but I will suffice.
Take my time, to open up your fiery eyes.
We will see that horns will call amongst us.
Falter smelts the break and carries it away.
Please tell everyone I know, that I’m such a terrible man.
- I will rise, I will rise, I will rise.
