Martyrs

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Monks

A monk (, from Greek: μοναχός, monachos, "single, solitary" via Latin monachus) is a person who practices religious asceticism by living a monastic lifestyle, either alone or with any number of other monks. A monk may be a person who decides to dedicate their life to serving other people and serving God, or to be an ascetic who voluntarily chooses to leave mainstream society and live their life in prayer and contemplation. The concept is ancient and can be seen in many religions and in philosophy. The Greek word for a “monk” may be applied to women, but the English is mainly in use for men. The word nun is typically used for female monastics. Although the term monachos is of Christian origin, in the English language monk tends to be used loosely also for both… more »

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My eyes lost in the inner black
Looking at the world lying on my back
Feel alone I'm a ghost until heaven crack
Sitting through turbulence, the sirens fade out when words get personal

See the heart on my sleeve, and I let it bleed (so)
You hear me in the street, my spirit don't sleep
Too many left with the one thing that most promised
Time isn't borrowed but for some it took from us
What’s your head worth?
Mom told me that it worth knowledge
I don't care about your P’s the news reporting more losses
Coming at ‘em with expression in my pockets, I'm starting to know solace, more bodies, more coffins
Saying time heals all, it's a temporary blessing
Even when the hands of anxiety caressing, (uh)
Even when the pain cuts deeper than a dance in the quicksand
I’m on my bojangles two stepping

I hope you looking for
I hope you looking for
Nothing more, than what’s lost, only
When it rain it pours, faces in the stars, becoming more, hard to see, only

I just want to be, be, be, alone in a paradise, zoning where sirens bleed
I just want to be, be, be, alone in a paradise, zoning where sirens bleed

(Where sirens bleed)

I’m trying to breath, Can’t you see
I’m trying to breath, Can’t you see

This my type of violence
Most sounds get killed in the depth of the silence
Remind them, we didn’t come from here
Hold fear in my heart, in the dark with the metal of my past in an ark I’m
Past participle, past permissible, verses are gripping still
Too many kids die young in the ghetto, too many Pinocchio's and not enough Geppetto's
Sirens still may fall down to the petals
Maybe your heart beats now in tremolo
Broken knees, white bone shattered and blood is peak
So much crimson, so much crimson
Scratching madness till my face is missing
F*ck the darkness, grace my face on guts and garters
Full blood, a twisted martyr should’ve told them I missed my father

I hope you looking for
I hope you looking for
Nothing more, than what’s lost, only
When it rain it pours, faces in the stars, becoming more, hard to see, only

I just want to be, be, be, alone in a paradise, zoning where sirens bleed
I just want to be, be, be, alone in a paradise, zoning where sirens bleed

(Where sirens bleed)

I’m trying to breath, can’t you see
I just want to be, be, be, in a place where sirens bleed

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