all circumstance is sabotage that which does not kill
us makes
encoded transmissions spun out of control bring the
purging insurrection of
i wage an unholy war against your fucked up soul
crawling over the bodies of your dead bastard children
more like
Instrumental
Instrumental
the clouds attacked slowly obscuring everything we
took out our eyes
the world looks like a finger painting done with
broken hands
your hope collapsed like a burning orphanage under the
weight of