|
The filth of our underlings |
|
Shall never nourish me completely |
|
Our knowledge is bending our brainwaves congealing |
|
Force feed the piety that humans are bleeding |
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Silk purse from a sows ear is what I'm knitting |
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Nourishing off the fat of our rendering |
|
Hail to our underlings |
|
Our destinies embraced |
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Surrender unto abysmal weight |
|
Hail to our underlings |
|
Toiling away |
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Collapsing into a servile state |
|
Mouth of komodo shall harbour our healing |
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Poisons the serum as our sores are revealing |
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Hang nerves out to dry to dampen the feeling |
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Rendering for self-symbiotic feeding |
|
Hail to our underlings |
|
Who knows not to fight |
|
Peel back the scabs to blind them all with light |
|
The filth of our underlings |
|
Shall never nourish me completely |
