Shorn of apocryphal pride, the locks falls predicting strife. Cranium exposed, denial of aesthetic. Push it a little farther. All of this burnt to ashes, all of this torn to rags. I don�t know what the fuck have I become? Synapses snapping mortality decimated. Breakdown whiskey shifts hate into overdrive. Realizing it�s murder of the self so clean. Hand reaches out desecrates impunity. Ripping away foundation�s identity replacing with shame. Transgression mythologized, indiscretions immortalized. Anger inflamed with dry rot, pushing towards severance. What a bloody mess. Visiting dark sites unknown, grief lands like a ton of bricks. All of this burnt to ashes, all of this torn to rags�Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
