Look at that witch
Flying on her broomstick...
Best Friends
Partners in Crime...
You pulled up in the driveway
and made your way to the door...
That time of year when things we
saw when we had to many come...
Slowly creeping by above,
high up in the sky...
That which rides
a witchs broom...
Years of struggle seems far away
as moments bring us close...
The roar of the demons shook the world,
the tiles in the ceiling began to rain down...
You walk, You battle,
You level, You rappel...
They are beautiful
perfect in every way...
Happy days,
Wondrous praise...
Anxiety seizes my lungs, conrols my heart.
It grips my very soul, and rips me apart...