Lyrics |
In fiscal flight from the ravenous cavernous orifice asphyxiated form Washed in wolves blood sterile and pantomimed parting in parts the trial of the worm Sew the lid closed, cough and spit into your palm with charitable charm Slap the bad man's wrist, insist disarm Do the math, the path is a narrow one, it led me down to a cold and shallow grave On my tombstone I read the epitaph, "Here lies a man who lived and died a slave" Till the vexing that his hex annexing animates his glorious distresses Serve the right foot raw, so flawed, undressed Semi-conscious concentration, Christmas cards and suffocation Ambulances beckon bodies, tires squealing, sirens wailing
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