It is I who has grown, Blossomed from the hate that ferments within. With frightless haste, you are quick to be evaporated, your stain removed from these roots. The fuel formed, behind your transparent eye, a deposit of lies, it is your nature. Fed through my chest, inject me, nourish me, help my malice to grow. Endlessly flowing, a continuous wave, floating in misery. Your influence: a penny jar, filling with idiocy. Blind from the fact you're spewing out lies, a verbal fraud. Just hold back your thoughts, they mean nothing to me, your voice a waste, a courier of shame. Your lives feed my hatred, you will cower before me.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
