The future can't be
Tossed up, but it's dead
All my heart, I curse you
As you burn up the disease
There's no more remorse to be
Taken both in the body of oblivion
Expiring as the walls re-enrasted behind your stage
Worship the moral blood
I
Deed
I
Deed
The devouring mouth of hell
Demons of forgiveness
Now, it's your turn



At the flies




Attacks
You

We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.