Backstreets on a Sunday night
Running from the fear into the wall
Crazy thoughts had passed his mind
But the seed had yet to bloom
The thorns of his actions
First glance then a second look, not too long
The third eye chose to stare and it said
To go ahead, take a bite, promises
I don't remember innocence
So far down this winding road
I can't remember my way home
It's all a cross to you, what have I done?
But now I'm past the point of no return
Now the seed is sown, the tree is grown
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