Text písně The Locust: Alas Here Come The Hypochondriacs To Wait?

Alas Here Come The Hypochondriacs To Wait?


Drained blood from your own spine in a trophy
Dead skin cells drip charity crumbs
Biting the hand that feeds,
Deemed an unhealthy meal
When slipping on someone else's elbow grease,
Gurgling devices loose their appetite
Mirages seem to commission blame,
While pointing the finger cracks the mirror







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