Born without purpose, our friend wanders through the desert Aimless. Brainless. Infection ruining his sentient thoughts Over the years he’s created his own purpose A purpose void of reason or understanding To slay the hunchbacked sand demons Blight of nature, he’s their only reckoner The last bastion of desert justice
Their viscous red offering have corroded his appendages He is apathetic to the deconstruction of his physical being The Red Baptism Born anew The Camel CrusherTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
