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letra de fatal disease pt. ii - electric chair

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quarantine poorly
who’s gonna die?!

psycho centrist business man
don’t spill his blood or oil
he’d rather see the common man
shed his mortail coil

crematory burning fast
breathing in dead nurses ash

if you’re out on your own
and you’re born to the class
you saw the failures of country
in the year of the mask

paranoid on the floor of my room
your dead father’s stored like gas station food
a new disease. pray you’re lucky

i don’t wanna die in a crowded hospital intubated

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

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