V / Vatra / Anal Pus Splashing
I was walking through the forest of the dead With trees frozen as if with horror
In the cold mourning The shapes were growing clear Of some gallows on which The most wanted fruit hanged: a corpse
A gentle breath of wind was singing fath his obituary Then a woman in black comes near and sucks his anus with fear The black ritual of revival took place right before my yes, Anal pus splashing is the secret of soul monopolization
The witch swept her mouth with pleasure And the hanged open wide his eyes To see the cold mourning together with it's unclear shapes Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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