one more smoke - you'll be dead one more bottle - you'll loose your thread one more word - i'll kill your friends honey, you better lock your pants we walk on the plundered plains i know, you said that i'm your pain i'll cut your hands, don't pack bags i like the smile between your legs on the edge of my disgust i will write your name by scars do not choke - take a breath i'll begin, you'll do the rest her head is ripped by semblant crowns she'll fling my flesh to rabid crowd two rotten wings behind her back but razor already searchs the neck
101 3 года