Content by the thought of a haunted abortionist.
Fixated on the thought of aborting a contortionist.
Prolonging the burning of thy holy name's non-existence.

And all i ever wanted was a good nights sleep.
In death i found what goes up must burn down into the rust and fear of those who dwell beneath me.
No rest for the wretched.
My moral standards are of nothing and amounting to shit, everything has fallen south.
I'm going to hell and i'm taking you with me.

With my hands around his throat, famished of the words he spoke.
For thou who shall sin, on thy tongue thee choke.

---

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