歌词
Sawing off the pavement
Repenting their past lives
Might I be the only payment left
To be left behind
Clay and pigment footsteps
Rush it boiling clean
Our bull let in linguistics
That only we can breathe
I gotta prayer that'll make you theirs now
Beneath sepulchers
Raise your entrails as an offer
Fondling with pitchforks
In a cattle prodded sea
Signaling the sedatives
To emaciate their quee[...]
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专辑信息