neutralized area, bright white glow, no smell, no
sound, no soul.
encoded transmissions spun out of control bring the
purging insurrection of
humiliation outpost of snarling ugliness and dying
people. rewrite these images
crawling over the bodies of your dead bastard children
more like
Instrumental
Instrumental
an ocean of rum tosses your pickled gut onto christ's
sword.
the clouds attacked slowly obscuring everything we
took out our eyes
the world looks like a finger painting done with
broken hands
more important is what i'm not doing. theirs less to
apologize
your hope collapsed like a burning orphanage under the
weight of
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