Well, I'm not a wise Man
I just follow Intuition
I take life as it comes
Commissioned for submission

I may be a Dramatist
Some call me an Amorist
But the Bleeding heart's an Artist
And mine is in your fist

So you have my blood on your fingers
A dirty soul that lingers
But I to have yours in my hand
'Cause well I'm not a wise man

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