[Planetary]: In my historical oracle I blast metaphorical editorials educated in my territorial get torn heavily armed with seventy bombs that'll blast
days of the week so You don't wanna catch a sinker slider to the cheek bone Call me critical the disc jockey, the B side kickin Phat beats eternal, eternal
torn apart Till another torment starts? But before the world turns into a sun All cruelty and violence On earth will be dead and gone But before the world turns into
orgiastic turn when'd you say: well What were they for, these black inked dreams A guaranty that I was wise And so called gods define an entrance for eternal life Into
from their eternal war go, dont step to me you punk assed motherfucking son of a bitch go, just roll the dice youll end up dead go, dont look into my
silence remains Oh, make every tear in my heart a lifetime in hell Falling eternal through the pits of time Into an abysmal womb of subcansciousness Torn
Born - into the wrong century I am soldier of dark existence I'll last eternally... I am the triumphator In the grip of eternal frost Domination, devastation Eternal
kind Of ravening- as predator to prey And of fiercest lightnings divine He was the punishment (meted out) by th gods The sanguinary one who scorned defeat Torn
embrace, spiritess of the melancholia Show me, again, your sweet face Enchant me with your rich, cinder burnt ether Lure me into your arms and bless unto me eternal
I'm on my knees but I can't follow I'm sitting here alone, abandoned, torn apart I'm on my knees I can't continue on Emotionless and deserted The Incurable
love is a lonely number Can't you hear the wheels of thunder They're driving deep into your heart Feelings they'll never be torn apart Maybe he's the
was stolen by the wind from the south Another winter's tale is done Your immortal lover - he's gone The chalice stolen from her hand Eternal life at
from the impaled I spit on your christian ground I split your enormous lies I rape and ruin your holy land I am bloodfreezing devastation Raging into
get up by the howling cry Just justify my longing to die Bury me down at last I think about it in the shadows and cry Can scissors heal a man torn of
Dishwater cafe in a torn paper street A rundown future let me down now everything's complete Uncurling human tragedy apparently a parody Send my love
the artists of this tragically seemless, ill fated tapestry, blistered fingers are tending their loom. She collects the strands to braid into life. Logging