Ride the Lightning
1
Guilty as charged But damn it, it ain't right There's someone else controlling me Death in the air Strapped in the electric chair This can't be happening to me Who made you God to say? I'll take your life from you
Flash before my eyes
Now it's time to die
Burning in my brain I can feel the flames Wait for the sign To flick the switch of death It's the beginning of the end Sweat, chilling cold As I watch death unfold Consciousness my only friend My fingers grip with fear What am I doing here? Flash before my eyes Now it's time to die Burning in my brain I can feel the flames Someone help me Oh please, God help me They're trying to take it all away I don't want to die Someone help me Oh please, God help me They are trying to take it all away I don't want to die Time moving slow The minutes seem like hours The final curtain call I see Im through with this Just get it over with If this is true, just let it be Wakened by a horrid scream Freed from this frightening dream
Flash before my eyes Now it's time to die Burning in my brain I can feel the flames
EVA
I LOVE THESE LITTLE ONES
Nina G Niki G Hannah G Bec G Lyss G Gil Lil Jonna G
I´LL SEE YOU 1 DAY ON THE ROAD
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NGR
Its about it. I need love. To sense, to feel and to live love. I need to be loved. To be hated too. By one and the other.
To be or not to be. That is the question.
To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep, No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause—there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th'unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action.
The King´s Love.
NGR ABIGAIL
NGR MAID
T
I love the simple wonderful good somers newbys kelly kara nate leena gabe smash movin locker raising inglorious markl scotters
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