letra de i raise my craving hands - enslavement of beauty
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the polaroid of perfection, demirep and stained with hate
well wounded i stuttle the crowd with my vogue lack of faith
the up and coming vendetta, the # vultures’ extremes
spruce me up with a sweet little plaything, spruce me f-cking supreme
i raise my craving hands, to the image of her promised land
the succulent teenage c-nt, tempteth me to exeunt
wish me well, wish me h-ll… all i ever wanted was a story to tell
the absence of goals, the lack of control
the absence of aim and the present fame…
the absence of goals, the lack of control
everyone knows i should be extolled
the absence of aim and the present fame
everyone would sell their souls to play this game
… it’s the game we play…
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