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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
Where the air hangs like the static of a dead end radio I'm waiting with a frozen pulse Crawl into an empty womb Don't raise these dead They've found their god in soil Dry scab silhouettes Tell the secrets of sewn mouths, my heart is a sore But even charred faces crack smiles Mismanufactured Screaming like some faulty machinery The overwhelming inefficiency of infants Artificer stead me now You've sewn a machine You've birthed an abortion The corpse of God is love The corpse of God is love I'm rotting, and I'm not yet dead I'm the king of worms and I'll have your head Resurrected roadkill, blueprinted skin I swear I've never been here before Everyone but me looks like they've seen a ghost
Everybody try to relax Everybody please remain calm All eyes fall on collapsing statues (I'm not supposed to be here anyways) (Stop laughing, stop pointing) There's nothing to see here Divinity doesn't show what the stables hold The scalpel proves my faith when he spits through his words We traitors share our strings We're suffocating under makeshift skin Pull out the thread, sew on a heart, make peace with dirt
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