Sheilding my face with my very means of survival.
The very weapons abused, left to rot through to the
bone, Just one foot from equaling the six below.
Deaf / defeated, where peace of mind tightens it's
grip among a smoldering variable.
Hell. Vomiting. A few personal unnamed choruses of
goodwill toward man that I have left.
Dusting my finger prints. The caskets of the ill-taxed
still withering in opposition,
regardless of past lessons,
proving the human condition and it's remains kept at my side.
The very weapons abused, left to rot through to the
bone, Just one foot from equaling the six below.
Deaf / defeated, where peace of mind tightens it's
grip among a smoldering variable.
Hell. Vomiting. A few personal unnamed choruses of
goodwill toward man that I have left.
Dusting my finger prints. The caskets of the ill-taxed
still withering in opposition,
regardless of past lessons,
proving the human condition and it's remains kept at my side.
song info: