|
Like flesh in a slaughter house |
|
I know we are pleasant cowshed |
|
Upset like a pig in his gore |
|
Swim fast and fuck your needs |
|
You're not alone now |
|
Let it go! |
|
Wanna close your eyes |
|
Tired of this nauseating cream |
|
But strobos flash your skin |
|
And you know |
|
You're done, trippin' down |
|
You can transgress now |
|
Rebel against what? |
|
No choice, one way |
|
To get rid of the shit stored |
|
Need some vaseline? |
|
To keep good all she promises |
|
Can't be slave to the image |
|
Display your illness |
|
You became slave, stupid fucker! |
|
How long will it last |
|
All a story to live |
|
One thousand of cells to hive, to burn |
|
From now you can begin |
|
Light dissolving in my saliva |
|
Under the tongue fire |
|
Claustrophobia |
|
Your brain is suffering inside |
|
Exploding |
|
He found his grave in your mind |
|
Try to get up fucker |
|
You're sitting or you're already standing |
|
Tell me which's your aftershave |
|
You are a floweret by this side |
|
To whom someone broke the stalk |
