There with him, his error
We are sacrosanct
I'm taunting arraignments to you
My swatch had fit the holster
My faith burned every house
Like no other manger
I am emptier without
Bear them, servants
Three to a pall
Marks the venom
Lushing terminal
When I became a larva
You fed me from your plate
Now my slouch is nervous
Sinking by the face
Wrinkled by this gravel
Skinless trace of time
You wear cobwebs proudly
In your cheap and brittle sighs
My glands emit this carnage
These pews bend back our knees
That uniform it wears you
When the ulcer made him bleed
Bear them, servants
Three to a pall
Marks the venom
Lushing terminal
That cesspool, it becomes you,
Just north of the eyebrows
Squat their hole full of pucker
When their ashes go blonde
The salted stitch is patient
We're waiting to engulf
There's plasma from this hoax
Pretending to be us
Embalming all the fluids
I must, I must
I prefer to burn them
I must I must
Embalming all the fluids
I must I must
I prefer to burn them
I must I must
Bear them, servants
Three to a pall
Marks the venom
Lushing terminal
There with him, his error We are sacrosanct I'm taunting arraignments to you My swatch had fit the holster My faith burned every house Like no other manger I am emptier without
Bear them, servants Three to a pall Marks the venom Lushing terminal
When I became a larva You fed me from your plate Now my slouch is nervous Sinking by the face Wrinkled by this gravel Skinless trace of time You wear cobwebs proudly In your cheap and brittle sighs My glands emit this carnage These pews bend back our knees That uniform it wears you When the ulcer made him bleed
Bear them, servants Three to a pall Marks the venom Lushing terminal
That cesspool, it becomes you, Just north of the eyebrows Squat their hole full of pucker When their ashes go blonde The salted stitch is patient We're waiting to engulf There's plasma from this hoax Pretending to be us
Embalming all the fluids I must, I must I prefer to burn them I must I must Embalming all the fluids I must I must I prefer to burn them I must I must
Bear them, servants Three to a pall Marks the venom Lushing terminal