There, where fear as an ardent dick Enters the fathomless vagina of superstitious There, where some are creators And others are destructors There is consumer existence in this Acquired and artificial instincts: The black universe of my indifference White virginity of my impartiality Preconceived holy ointment shedding Covered with hoar frost hypochondria My compassion inseminated by macrophages Dim reflection in tile All roads lead to morgue, grinding of ungreased hinges Modest monastery, purgatory for the mortal flesh I can predict the past, reading ripped guts The grace is deeper than the mother's womb Hopeless pathology, smell of formalin You won't be my guest for long, my silent wanderer I will take you apart piece by piece I was looking for your soul But found only dead organic matter I found only the disfigured traces Of life while searched for your soulTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
