---

Bandage and gauze your cancer
Dried leaves fill my bedroom
Carving your grapefruit skull
Piggy bank your empty soul
The Ides are not in the grace of your fucking favor.

These kids have no one to talk to.
An unfading carrot-on-a-stick complex.
Unveil my scars to thunderous laughter.
I'd chew a handful of cyanide pills and vomit
them in your mouth like you were my young
if it meant dragging you to hell with me.
Hoisted. Skewered.

---

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