A soldier came home, with blood on his hands,
A farmer with blisters and cuts,
A collector held treasures from strange distant lands,
A pervert held bras from his sluts,
Alas come to me, so distant and odd, what covers my hands do you ask?
an artist with paint of all colors a god, a wearer of a lonely furs mask,
A frightened and fragile, offended proud welp, who knows not her destinies path, and to tell you the truth, most call out for help, but I'd rather take a wild river bath X3