Horns Become Halos
Life Is Nothing But A Set of Numbers
A writer, a poetA thinker, a flow-erTwo people, two mindsToo separate, too sameThree places, three daggersFree worries, free livesFor all of my life, I have drowned in the shadowsFive more minutes of this shit and I'll turn around the gun and saySixteen years I've been fightingI've got a lot to show for it, I can take a punch and throw a hitSeven is not a lucky numberI've seen more luck in lightning strikes, even selfish friends are worth a fightEight chances, eight legsAte fire, ate dustNine killers, nine triesNine worries, nine livesTen meetings, ten startsTen thousand and ten reasonsEleven months have come to pass And and I know that they've gone much too fastTwelve moons have waxed and wanedSongtexteI've seen the harvest and the blue, yet I still don't have a clueThirteen's more lucky than you thinkIt signals all the changing tides, yet I still insist to hide aloneIn this house, in this cityIn this tattered, broken soul, I will find homeI will find my way back, find my way back homeThese numbers toy with meHunt me down and make me runGo erase your linesLet me start at one
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