|
I come from a land |
|
of systematic erasure of optimism and positiveness |
|
You don't want to encourage me |
|
Slowly corroding your fortified norm |
|
Leaving you bitter, grim and sober |
|
With rigid cramp or silent fear |
|
I strangle what you do hold dear |
|
With rigid cramp or silent fear |
|
evoking addiction, limp, severe |
|
It's sin again |
|
Like charcoal on flaming nuns |
|
Consistence unknown like early black metal |
|
We're born without armor - |
|
don't you think I'm watching my back ?! |
|
With rigid cramp or silent fear |
|
I strangle what you hold dear |
|
With rigid cramp or silent fear |
|
evoke addiction; limp; severe |