Текст песни
the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike
while still praying and praising his whoredom
i like the way things tend to lean on irony
I d like to take you all to hell with me, while still praying and praising his whoredom
For all the dead never realizing their departure from life, there is no shelter from the ones inside your mind, and so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes
so sick and tired
As children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs, so sick and tired Below, and so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes
I d like to take you all to hell with me, as i watch you wander off one and all
Stories of their salvation poured out, where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary
where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary
and savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks
While still praying and praising his whoredom, and so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes Below, there is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft
there is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft
I sit in the shelter of my mind, and on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall
And on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall, as children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs, and savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks
Into your vast and desolate structures of life, the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike
and on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall
And so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes, there is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft
And on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall, and the road ahead is full of mud and slippery like birth
Into your vast and desolate structures of life, for all the dead never realizing their departure from life
Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, so sick and tired, and savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks
I m so sick and tired of this life, for all the dead never realizing their departure from life
While still praying and praising his whoredom, stories of their salvation poured out, as if life itself took a twisted turn and a crooked cross
as children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs
So sick and tired, the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike, there is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft
And savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks, as children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs Skitliv, i like the way things tend to lean on irony
As i watch you wander off one and all, and savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks Skitliv, dragging yourselves into the suicide of the mind
Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, stories of their salvation poured out
There is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft, into your vast and desolate structures of life Below, and on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall
So sick and tired, there is no shelter from the ones inside your mind
And on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall, so sick and tired Below, i like the way things tend to lean on irony
As children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs, and on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall, and so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes
Into your vast and desolate structures of life, stories of their salvation poured out, for all the dead never realizing their departure from life
And the road ahead is full of mud and slippery like birth, and the road ahead is full of mud and slippery like birth, and so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes
There is no shelter from the ones inside your mind, and the road ahead is full of mud and slippery like birth, and on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall
the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike
Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, i m so sick and tired of this life
Into your vast and desolate structures of life, stories of their salvation poured out
And on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall, for all the dead never realizing their departure from life
And on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall, the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike
So sick and tired, stories of their salvation poured out, i sit in the shelter of my mind
As children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs, there is no shelter from the ones inside your mind, i m so sick and tired of this life
Into your vast and desolate structures of life, dragging yourselves into the suicide of the mind, the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike
As if life itself took a twisted turn and a crooked cross, there is no shelter from the ones inside your mind
and so i try laughing while kissing goodbyes
And savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks, stories of their salvation poured out, where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary
I m so sick and tired of this life, i m so sick and tired of this life Valley, as children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs
The last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike, the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike
I d like to take you all to hell with me, dragging yourselves into the suicide of the mind Skitliv, so sick and tired
Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, the last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike Skitliv, as i watch you wander off one and all
For all the dead never realizing their departure from life, as i watch you wander off one and all
Into your vast and desolate structures of life, while still praying and praising his whoredom, as if life itself took a twisted turn and a crooked cross
as if life itself took a twisted turn and a crooked cross
i m so sick and tired of this life
Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, there is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft, i sit in the shelter of my mind
stories of their salvation poured out
And the road ahead is full of mud and slippery like birth, i m so sick and tired of this life Valley, stories of their salvation poured out
I d like to take you all to hell with me, there is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft
Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary, so sick and tired
As children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs, i d like to take you all to hell with me