and the fire that's keeping me warm is burning to cinders the secrets rescinding the war.
Nefarious, sarcastically fucking gregarious, and I'm frayed, I'm tired, I'm flayed, I've tried and I've failed, so I'm walking away.
Shut up. There's no end on this page for my succubus-cum-necrophage. Every word trephinates the skull you emptied of joy and tried to replace
with your void, your saccharine and frivolous noise. You're a mannequin modeled off harridans hung for their poise, and their ploys.
One if by land, two if by sea, three if the monarch's here and she's bending the knee.
Bastards, yeah I know there were. Bastards; your mind a frog put to boil. As it turns out I'm a glutton. I've let bitches push my buttons.
But none of them like you. None of them like you.
(you're just a) Shut up. Caustic happenstance; down the drip feed I'm fed.
Every word you intone tears my skin from my flesh, and my flesh from my bones.
My bones.
There's a reason you're dying alone; the intent of your sentences grind together like stones.
Bastards, yeah I know you were. Bastard, your mind; the graveyard of toil. As it turns out I'm a glutton. I've let bastards push my buttons. But none of them like you.
None of them like you.
Bastards, I don't care there were. Bastards, your mind; a stamp on my world. And without you I am empty. Everyone since gave me plenty but none of them are you.
None of them are you.
Bastards, we can't even struggle through. Bastards, all the construct can do is construe. All my insides, made of clay. There's no reason to go or to stay. There's no one left like you.
No one left like you.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
