9 acessos
You'd trade our starving eyes
for a tar and feathered heart a 25cent execution to hear
your anthem praises played on
frequency decayed a breath of frigid self-made winter.
Sing out and sing loud we'll sing as loud as you
do and hold on hold on cause this is the end of the line
I'm not falling.
Of beautiful and sacred
hings and your immaculate disguise
I'm trading it in for my pride war emblem.
As if id fall to pieces in the wake of your design.