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letra de brain burner - kingmaker

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give me l-st, malice and a detached existentialist
give me rampant intellectualism to cope with all this sh-t
slow down, speed up
whatever takes death long enough to change my skin
but when i’m gone it won’t be for long till i’m back in the saddle of sin

invisible or incapable of love i can’t tell which is worse
accidents or gravity my organs, blood, bones and skin i walk were never my first
all we are is inherited so f-cking toss us to the pigs
its a head start to the gates of h-ll
am i the only one, is this loneliness?
knife, oh look folks it’s a knife in my back by my own hands
let my blood edge your pool of no f-cks giving
step back, devolve, and mutilate
wasted and tasted as the crows cry, d-mn this vulture land
everything’s all eaten up, the wolves are fat, soon to be dead

just let them lay me down
like stones that crumble
wood that rots, we are fragile
a hollow sh-ll that we create
we ate the sh-t we hate
i’m becoming what i loathe
i ate myself alive, i hate the taste

we, us vultures serpentine
a loaded circle of defeat
we crave the buried meat
so we now must eat each other
drug induced western advanced
the hospital, it’s for the sick
so put down my brain in the burner

wasted never tasted anything quite like this
the bitter hunger to survive is why i gave in
carnage candy, oh your blood is so f-cking sweet
it’s d-mned, deadly and bad for your t–th

invisible or incapable of love i’ll take which i deserve
and the accident that has just occurred was sure no accident
gravity threw my weight to a blade of darkness to my grave
death can you just shed some light
of inherited thoughts, this must be shame
knife, oh look folks there’s the knife embedded in my skin
don’t take it out just bury me with all the h-ll that i’ve commit
eyes sewed open to the ground, the back of my head faces the clouds
because he knows i’m looking at him, knows i’m trouble, knows i’m coming but worst of all he knows where i’ve been

we, us vultures serpentine
a loaded circle of defeat
crave the buried meat
crave the buried meat

give me l-st, malice, detached existentialist
give me a brain burner to cope with this sh-t
whatever takes death long enough to change my skin
when i’m gone, won’t be for long, till i’m back in the saddle of sin

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