Archaic methods transfer through well in the face of mass denial.
Bitterness
fuels the mode for the escape of mediocrity.
Stepping the grate, shattered
nerves ground down to a glass edge carrying me away. Bloodletting a favorite
game of solitaire.
A suicide mission destined to fail, a moving ladder to
climb taking me away.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

Composição: Burn the Priest