Of all the loves, you lose more. They
pry the closed opening to the
crowd, whom cries the cries of dead ones.
To the trees, the trees with tall leaves!
Put the piles where no one can see!
Burn the place, the place of Two, while
chaos, pain and pride do strike he,
too. Where to the man who can't grieve?
The way of they show the way of the
town, the rip of time who can't throw
pride 'way to the Crypt of Two. They
kill the weak through cost of tough life.
Purpose, pain and pride as folks know
it, shall never pair with triumph.
Care for Two. The Pain and Pride show
that we can't hear vox populi.