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Oak God

アーティスト:Century 

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Commence your cryostate self-preservation, While I waste away in the landfill you've claimed before my home. I would blow out my brians, I would choke my own heart, To clean your soaking dust from the soles of my boots. And speaking of souls, how much is left of your spiritual side, you ungrateful fucks? I know you'll be dead long before I'm gone, But I'll spit on your grave with every single song. You better do it if it pays the rent, dick. Cause you don't even know what you consider sacred anymore. We're called to duty by our weapons contracts, And front the bills to be locked up in a jail cell. In two hundred years they'll thaw me out, Pack me up and ship me off so I can fight their war. I'll catch a bullet in the neck and return to the states, But not before they confiscate my fucking shoes at the airport. From the wolves all seated adjacent. Lights out.


投稿者: PetitLyrics
プチリリ再生回数:0





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