Stuff in hand, arm in black
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I cannon in good conditions, I pull backwards
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As long as I feel like you don’t have a bump on your neck
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And the expressions remain serious until the gut in Limas causes my own fatal crash
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Eat my flesh, drink my blood, take my flesh
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I squeeze the spoon in my sleep before I wake up from the floor
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And sleeping bags will make a blade if you are born resting
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There is a hemoglobin passage in the left eye of the demon
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To which the mystical stream of black poison must fill the blood vessels of the sun
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I water more stuff than some fucking average user
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The middle finger on your face will even give you that direction indicator
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In fact, tadvjoon to the army knitted nodvetkut
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Like KLV, the so-called mud is a good night for such children
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The jackets are open and these hoods swing
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As long as the whole fucking click from hell to horse-drawn thought
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leijuu
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And the endless phasing continues, the doup is in your pocket and Jonestown is still alive
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--- The fear of the soul is kept small until the mortals lose their ego
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Behind Palamas former life, pulling the psyche again
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Death is traded in portions and emotions are made to be destroyed
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When I finally realized you were no longer holding my mind and me in front of me
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Appearing on my tombstone was erased fuck dates, symbols and my name
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It’s a cosmic buzz, broken images and interpretations are perceived as questions
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The bottomless pit is endlessly straight and death is a mystical sinful joke
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The filthy blood flowing from these inverted crosses stains
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Today, a bottomless well, a black hole until death silently pierces it
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Control chemicals, lit glass pipe meta
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I sleep artificially so sleeping how to cheat
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I experience that black Sabbath as a snowstorm in the snow
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And the powder in my nasal cavity melted into a narrow one
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Smoke lost place and sense of time in the air
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I smoked the smoke and took the acid patches from the freezer
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I'm chasing --- a bottomless pit
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The light at the end of the tunnel was a delusion in the brain
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And there is no going back to the former, there is a thief hanging on the rope and the bells
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See you already coming to go, I hope you don't go with those boots Jalas
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With people in the air fucking in the yard, it feels like not everyone is out of trouble
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I prefer to numb my head on the bench, even though I'm already slow
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My body is destroyed, my life is accidentally lost
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I left a space filled with emptiness and from there I will not extend anywhere else
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Nothing living in matter is intoxicated, but I cannot give up ways
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Unless death comes, at the beginning I want to, but get drunk
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Behind Palamas former life, pulling the psyche again
|
Death is traded in portions and emotions are made to be destroyed
|
When I finally realized you were no longer holding my mind and me in front of me
|
Appearing on my tombstone was erased fuck dates, symbols and my name
|
It’s a cosmic buzz, broken images and interpretations are perceived as questions
|
The bottomless well is endlessly straight and death is a mystical sinful joke
|
The filthy blood flowing from these inverted crosses stains
|
Today, a bottomless well, a black hole until death silently pierces it
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Nightmares The resting mind rests somewhere on the other side
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Icicles and eternal space, we transport the streets in the shadow of the dead
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Missing emotions and years are replaced by milleil melting tongue
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Empty cans filling your head, reeling where meniki are hiding
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Pull the sun into your breath more subuu and so that time will pass
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And that eternal dream doesn't matter how much I try to sleep
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In the middle of a confused head, I can't see the mirrored glass eyes
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And I can’t shut them down, why no fuck is enough
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Still sipping man, codesan comppia awake in his dreams ---
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And I hang my head inside the couch in the deep loop
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God is dead when the crucifix on the wall revolves around the perimeter
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The demons are awake while the body of the dead couch rests
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The sheer confusion of Jonestown over here
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Whatever you see when you turn your head
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The same goes on every fucking city
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Lahti, Tampere, Kempton, hooks from the south of Lapland and back there
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Hattara would mix with my phyto, I would pull the whole fucking world to pieces
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Behind Palamas former life, pulling the psyche again
|
Death is traded in portions and emotions are made to be destroyed
|
When I finally realized you were no longer holding my mind and me in front of me
|
Appearing on my tombstone was erased fuck dates, symbols and my name
|
It’s a cosmic buzz, broken images and interpretations are perceived as questions
|
The bottomless pit is endlessly straight and death is a mystical sinful joke
|
The filthy blood flowing from these inverted crosses stains
|
Today, a bottomless well, a black hole until death silently pierces it |