Tell Me Of Death
Don't tell me of joy, sage; Of sorrow do I want to hear. Tell me of no truth, You do so, you lie: I have a mother at Africa, Trading under it's hot sun. Tell me of much hate, brother; Of it do I want to hear. Don't tell me of good, hey; Bad thoughts do I want to learn. Tell me of no love, You try... Sign in to see full entry.