Campion

This is a Lyric i have written for the Purpose of Lz., once i find a suitable beat, may it be hip hop or metal i will attempt to perform it in a video, Hope you enjoy!

i`d enjoy Critique aswell as positive comments, even some pointers and corrections as english  are not my native tongue. Bare in mind the text itself is work in progress.

In Nevada`s Heat there`s a Camp with a mean killing streak,off to diseased detention centers.

Better ‘off named it Death Row Teresa, assured to drop like flies in cow shit like it’s a tribal rite to pass to become frightful blissful.

2007 hell broke loose; there were no truce in-between the body and Campion forbearer, it’s a Sadomasochistic relationship, travesties were now official.

It (Aint)Aren`t wasting time in this unusual riot for you`ll be given a rib to hold.

Do you feel the pressure in suburban Slaughterhouses fort here are faces caught with hunger.

Reared by the Media, long live the secrecy, It`ll be the death of us!

Scratching on frontal lobes busting in poisoning demanding flesh to be torn in anguished screams.  Can you feel your blood vessels pop?

No Aspirin to furrow the pain for throbbing aches breaks in thru morning lights and turns into indifferent faces of soulless eyes staring back in the mirror. Mirror, mirror on the wall what do you say?

Indifference began with passports rounding the sick, wicked schemes for those unfortunate receiving its soothing romance for it`ll leave your eyes fixated and dilated.

So blatantly fathomed that FEMA were relieving the sick and CDC would cure a solid brick, atlas their great plan, Camp Saint Teresa a cookie to crumble, and that’s how the world began to fumble!

FDA moralistic absent, profiteers approved medical care that`d change the genetics of super flu that`ll lull you in its clutches.

A code that merits to man, whoever may bare it, now upon death walking the street is a Merit.

Whisper: Can`t sleep there`s feet’s creeping close;,every waking moment in life now nightmarish.

No stress relevance to beset for there`s too many beleaguers on my porch and not enough valium pills to cease these visual recourses.

Chorus-

Soothing the blissful to a tune so wishful, it’s anoxymoron in the works quoting the Bible.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou [art] with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me”

It’s official now, governments stressing desperately trying to focus to combat a living mutation crawling ever nearer.

Can`t sleep all `ll envision are dead feet’s, can neither stumble nor fumble in this Zpoc grind for there’s days of defeat if you flinch.

Shamblers closing in, in the thousands from cities that bit the dust, from area codes that cracked.

Campion damn persistent, no rest for the wicked eyes in the dark, shark like squints with piercing glares in deep blue Sea.

Survivors scurry over moss ridden streets in search of scraps and daily meals, bread crumbs for chaps.

Better reconsider flights, hungry faces en-route rerouted from alley ways, snarling truths.

Faces that are mute, emotionless though astute to the sounds of feet`s clinging to the hopes of blue skies and birds singing, atlas its morning at least now you can see the freaks singing.

Moans clinging, lurking for desperate steps, famine ridden eyes dreaming of miracles in the distance

Miracles deemed low, nearly nonexistent, damned campions persistentency bordering to plain insanity.

No soul to break bread, no wine to repent of tomorrows sins, hells already on its brims.

Perhaps blankets in rubbles if not unlucky to stumble upon walking dead with a snarling face.

Accustomed to the dark, blanket to shed warmth on worried thoughts, horrified eyes run out of a tear all that’s left is inhuman.

Not even holy water will save the day, maybe a stake to the hear… erm brain will drop one.

Campion strain resistant like dogs in heat humping you like it’s a summer fling, what audacity nibbling the flesh of Dalia llama.

Chorus-

Soothing the blissful to a tune so wishful, it’s anoxymoron in the works quoting the Bible.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou [art] with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me”

Hook

A blissful kiss by a scroungy maiden will lose you an ear,blissful thoughts accompanied by scratches against barricades, a plaque that won’t let you wait till it’s over, never to tire; it might even come at you in the shower.

Campion like college fraternities once you`re scent claims the air they get rowdy, smokes in the horizons if not eaten you`d smoother alive in a Co2 cloud nine.

Toxicity levels sworn to be high, don`t breath in, it won’t make you high just hard to reach; it will make you grounded and risen.

Blades stained in blood for this mess is thickening, nip tucking kicking back hordes of infecties, zombie licking me like a zombie pop fizzle.

Prayers loosening its meaning, heartbeats’ skipping,words of weary lips slipping.

Malnourished bodies walking the street, in plain view bite marks and goo dripping.

It’s all the same because I’m tripping on the fast lane,breaking thru a membrane of half truths on the verge of insanity; new world order will be a rotten one!