What I wouldn’t give to tread over Apollonian lines Leave them whispers of dust amidst Dionysian laughter Your discomfort alone would make it so worthwhile As you petition blindly to a sickened choir I will fashion the blade to help you spite your face
You are entirely misguided You are so goddamn malignant What is it that you want? I wish to end your sad whimpering with a bang
You are an altogether new kind of trigger warning I wouldn’t cast on anyone You invented the art of jumping the gun
A mass of pleading fat and bone Lacking muscles and a spine You must have consumed your twin in the womb Didn’t you? How impressive.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
