Текст пісні
Tongues planted in the cheeks of toothy Totenkopf grins,
sowed parallel to canines whistling to birth a nation.
It's one solution, I guess.
Oh, absolution is the only reward you'll confess,
paid as lent to yr guardian nothing.
Written checks just to say you're well spent.
Outlined in chalk, your numbers and ratios.
Only zeros and ones in the end.
I wanna soil yr blood.
To uncrete altars, teeth nash on.
What joy in torches snuffed?
Heads figured fallen preach that on.
I'd wanna soil yr blood,
But what's been said won't crease that arm.
If you say that nothing's lost,
why feign departial, crypt that tongue?
Discharging like a seed
whose yield is its own famine.
Thin veils of (ivory/irony)
Drape loose from olive branches
A sexless matrimony of impact and intent
Arm's length just out of reach,
Bluffing on folded hands.
When poker faces recoil,
Who's playing the next hand?
It's a roundtable set to go-merry.
Vanilla abstracts frame the scene.
A seasonless feast for the tasteless.
Pearly whites rot from too many sweets.
I wanna soil yr blood.
To uncrete altars, teeth nash on.
What joy in torches snuffed?
Heads figured fallen preach that on.
I'd wanna soil yr blood,
But what's been said won't crease that arm.
If you say that nothing's lost,
why feign departial, crypt that tongue?
Oh, the casualty of casualties.
Oh, the casualties of casualty.
Oh, the casualty of casualties
for some cheap crypto-Valhalla for hellhounds.
Heresy to yr fabricated savior,
Tryna sell me you know what's divine.
Broken down to pills like you've swallowed,
Just 14 words at a time.
Must secure to your dimly-lit smokescreens
Where the downtrodden play as untread.
Deny the tide, it doesn't matter.