Post by Osterreich on May 5, 2010 20:41:07 GMT -5
Deception.... Disgrace; Evil as plain as the scar on his face
Deception (An outrage!) Disgrace (For shame!) He asked for trouble the moment he came
Deception (An outrage!) (Just leave us alone!) Disgrace (For shame!)
(Traitor, go back with your own!) He asked for trouble the moment he came...G I L B E R T Beilschmidt
"I'm awesome!"
"I'm awesome!"
It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return,
But what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage
To let the person know how you feel
I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word; now in the morning I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to own. I used to roll the dice, feel the fear in my enemy's eyes; listen as the crowd would sing: "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!" One minute I held the key, next the walls were closed on me; and I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand. I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing, Roman Cavalry choirs are singing; Be my mirror, my sword and shield. my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain once you go there was never, never an honest word; and that was when I ruled the world
A bright, persistant beam of light casting over his eyes was what woke the silverette up from the deep consiousness of his sleep.
Gilbert groaned in annoyance, not wishing to be awake. Sleep was nice... And he was having quiet a curious dream, to top it off. It almost made him laugh. So he stubbornly left his eyes closed, though in the end, was forced awake by the persistant light heating his pelt and discomforting him. The albino sat up and stretched, joins giving a few healthy pops in return as he yawned. He noticed vaugely that he no logner felt quite so bad as he did yesterday. In fact, he felt pretty good. The awsome was back.
Gilbert grinned malaciously at this and laughed to himself, sitting back and supporting himself with his arms, pleased with himself.
It was the wicked and wild wind, blew down the doors to let me in. Shattered windows and the sound of drums, people couldn't believe what I'd become. Revolutionaries wait for my head on a silver plate; just a puppet on a lonely string, oh who would ever want to be king? I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing, Roman Cavalry choirs are singing; Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain, I know Saint Peter won't call my name; never an honest word, but that was when I ruled the world
Born in grief, raised in hate; helpless to defy his fate
Let him run, let him live, but do not forget
What we cannot forgive
And he is not one of us, he has never been one of us
He is not part of us, not our kind
Someone once lied to us, now we're not so blind
For we knew he would do what he's done
And we know that he'll never be one of us
But what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage
To let the person know how you feel
I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word; now in the morning I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to own. I used to roll the dice, feel the fear in my enemy's eyes; listen as the crowd would sing: "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!" One minute I held the key, next the walls were closed on me; and I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand. I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing, Roman Cavalry choirs are singing; Be my mirror, my sword and shield. my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain once you go there was never, never an honest word; and that was when I ruled the world
A bright, persistant beam of light casting over his eyes was what woke the silverette up from the deep consiousness of his sleep.
Gilbert groaned in annoyance, not wishing to be awake. Sleep was nice... And he was having quiet a curious dream, to top it off. It almost made him laugh. So he stubbornly left his eyes closed, though in the end, was forced awake by the persistant light heating his pelt and discomforting him. The albino sat up and stretched, joins giving a few healthy pops in return as he yawned. He noticed vaugely that he no logner felt quite so bad as he did yesterday. In fact, he felt pretty good. The awsome was back.
Gilbert grinned malaciously at this and laughed to himself, sitting back and supporting himself with his arms, pleased with himself.
It was the wicked and wild wind, blew down the doors to let me in. Shattered windows and the sound of drums, people couldn't believe what I'd become. Revolutionaries wait for my head on a silver plate; just a puppet on a lonely string, oh who would ever want to be king? I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing, Roman Cavalry choirs are singing; Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain, I know Saint Peter won't call my name; never an honest word, but that was when I ruled the world
Born in grief, raised in hate; helpless to defy his fate
Let him run, let him live, but do not forget
What we cannot forgive
And he is not one of us, he has never been one of us
He is not part of us, not our kind
Someone once lied to us, now we're not so blind
For we knew he would do what he's done
And we know that he'll never be one of us