Cryptic

A man of passion rides
A really mad horse
I cut my nose off
In spite of my face
You don't know
What it's really like
Inside her wicked mind
I pass by
As she washed her hands
Of all mankind

She told me everything
I do believe in all of her cryptic tales
Or was it just a dream
Who knows

Our makers dead
It seems we've made him lose his head
The towns squire is fading, ain't been fed
Turns his back
We're all dead
Don't know why our maker has turned so shy
Shall we all sit back and wait to die
Or let's join arms and push on by

She told me everything
I do believe in all of her cryptic tales
Or was it just a dream
Who knows
And I would give everything
I do believe in all of her cryptic tales
Or was it just a dream
Who knows

I would give anything, anything
I would give anything

I would give anything, anything
I would give anything



Credits
Writer(s): Brad Wilson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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