Words - MF Grimm

L-O-

-Y-S.

Lord, why do You

Love me?

I don’t even

Love me, doing things for-

-bidden, giving in to

Temptation, murdering Your

Creations, breaking bread with

Satan.

My soul feels so

Cold—I mean hot—it's both at one

Time.

I’m dancing with the

Devil, music feels so

Evil, records stole from

Heaven, they say, «Don't touch»

But I want them so much

All are instru-

-mental.

Therefore, all I

Had to do was sit and write the

Words

Always loved me when I cursed You

Believed in me when I didn’t believe in You

Refused, You held me tight with arms when I died

Genuine frozen tears You cried

Holy water brought me back to life

Breath for life, the will to strive

That’s lies—only the strong survive

Ones stronger than me rest in their grave

Laid bricks down, the way they paved

Take it from here, but me You save

I’m a bad seed, Lord.

I didn’t behave

Not caring about life, didn’t even try

Sick of it all, just want to die

Request denied, You still get really

I expected more from the bullets that filled me

Ignorant, mad You didn’t kill me

Lord, L-O-

-Y-S.

Lord, why do You

Love me?

I don’t even

Love me, doing things for-

-bidden, giving in to

Temptation, murdering Your

Creations, breaking bread with

Satan.

My soul feels so

Cold—I mean hot—it's both at one

Time.

I’m dancing with the

Devil, music feels so

Evil, records stole from

Heaven, they say, «Don't touch»

But I want them so much

All are instru-

-mental.

Therefore, all I

Had to do was sit and write the

Words

Ears covered with sins.

Now stressed, I kill

Eyes open with my blood to spill

Pure hell watching my brother get slain

It pained.

On my face was his brains

Bloodstains.

You took him away, awareness stays.

I start

To bug out and pull them plugs out

Time goes on.

You blessed me, my friend

Resurrection.

I’ll walk the earth again

L-O-

-Y-S.

Lord, why do You

Love me?

I don’t even

Love me, doing things for-

-bidden, giving in to

Temptation, murdering Your

Creations, breaking bread with

Satan.

My soul feels so

Cold—I mean hot—it's both at one

Time.

I’m dancing with the

Devil, music feels so

Evil, records stole from

Heaven, they say, «Don't touch»

But I want them so much

All are instru-

-mental.

Therefore, all I

Had to do was sit and write the…