Lyrics:
the bite of The eight legged vicious So fuck you punk bitches I got a new edition And the seven thorns stanched from my Chest makes me the sickest I'm
at the weather no matter how the pain gets The stuck stanched air and the bottles and the air And when the rain falls there gon be puddles everywhere We don't we
A burning fresco work of art in magenta Duskier moth shall looms out of crimson winds To hang with black the sky Dark wings in stanched red coral lymph
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