We can never be anything more
Than a sorry excuse for a fledgling plague
But if we keep it up this way
We'll have em' writhing, have em' running, keep em' all afraid

The coming plague of lusts
Leaves me hard-pressed to whet my tongue,
The flood of my ravenous past is leaving me high and dry

I make no guarantees, this would be hit or miss
But honestly nothing rivals this bastards bliss

We've all pledged our ties
To the insistent wracking of implication
And let the locust set our bones
And rattle the few left in the poisoned mold

A deadman's post-mortem swansong
A masochistic creation of wealth
Born and bred with the illest intention
Vaccinated at the point of conception

I make no guarantees, this would be hit or miss
But honestly nothing rivals this bastards bliss

Sing it like you got no shame,
We're heaven sent we're heaven made

I dipped my toes in the drowning hole
Force-fed from the mouth of blight
We can break these patterns
Of debaucherous nights

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