you show me the dead,
let me sink fingers into
the holes left by the sword
that had no hand in this matter.
uncover your false patriots
so I can see their
umbrage to freedom;
eternal sleep.
screaming at low volumes
you show me the dead,
let me sink fingers into
the holes left by the sword
that had no hand in this matter.
uncover your false patriots
so I can see their
umbrage to freedom;
eternal sleep.