Ignored as a crimson left on your toothbrush I will wait Abhorred by your kin in the name of a father I will blame
Valentine Curse your ways
When will we begin to incessantly fold Inexorably? When will our scalps run out of colour reserves Or any at all? We must strike while the poverbial Iron is hot Though man canÂŽt by force revoke his destined course He can curse at the madness of
Valentine, the condemner and sadist of old Cursing all to a lifetime of miserably clutching at miserable straw
Valentine
Curse your way
I need an explanation A reason for my curse The magnets have their North Pole And I only this thirst