Backstabbers inc // If you can see the end, it's already over: |
Sheilding my face with my very means of survival The very weapons abused, left to rot through to the bone, Just one foot from equaling the six below Deaf / defeated, where peace of mind tightens it's grip among a smoldering variable Hell Vomiting A few personal unnamed choruses of goodwill toward man that I have left Dusting my finger prints The caskets of the ill-taxed still withering in opposition, regardless of past lessons, proving the human condition and it's remains kept at my side |
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