Rise in death, filth and pain. Behold the great whore is opening her legs once again. Recumbent on her altar. She was fancier than the shining wealth of gods. Come to her in belief, praise her will and the fevers of her swollen dreams. Nothing greater for a man, than to taste the labor that his hands had wrought through the ecstatic magnificence of her sacred fuck. So I've felt into my knees and I've sucked your honor and glory from her rotten cunt. Hordes of pilgrims crawl with a faithful lust to feast on her flesh. A swarm of beggar blinds searching their light into the shrine of her graceful vagina. We the deferential rats, nailing their greedy teeth to her redemptory skin, yearning for a sinful end. And she the mother of holy benevolence, feed us with the wine of her hallowed wounds. Drunken us in a terrifying divinity. Lift us high in her macrocosm. And I've worked hard for my share to her perfect love.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.