Pomp And Circumstance Lyrics Novels & Stories

the singer’ sorrowfully croon. Our bodies moving seductively to convince him otherwise. “Go on, Go on and break my heart. Go on, Go on and break my heart. Burn the funeral pyres. I cannot live without you” the singers continue to plead. Our arms extended above our heads like flames as we spin and pound our feet to create the jingle of the bracelets. The drums and the bells like a beating heart, pleading to be loved. “Go on, Go on and break my heart.

What fucking bullshit is the Shit Witch going to throw at me now? “Bum bum bum bum. Painting the roses red. We’re painting the roses red. We dare not stop, or waste a drop. So let the paint be spread. We’re painting the roses reeeed. We’re painting the roses red. Oh, painting the roses red. And many a tear be shed, because we know, they’ll cease to grow. In fact, they’ll soon be dead. NOOOOO… And yet we go ahead, painting the roses red. Painting the roses red. We’re painting the roses red.” A trio of voices sang as I saw shadows of you guess it PLAYING CARDS! “OH FUCK NO! I’ll kill them all!” I clenched my hands into fists, pocketing the watch for the moment.