Six
"Hey! Hey! He was fine, just we sell out."
They come to feast on purist man
They come to feast on mortal tan
Filling their bodies with disease
Swollen still like killer bees
For that lack from their prize
They fucked their children, staring eyes
They come to feast on purist man
They come to feast on mortal tan
Filling their bodies with disease
Swollen still like killer bees
For that lack from their prize
They fucked their children, staring eyes
Losowe piosenki:
The Ground Folds
Hurricane 2000
Gloomy Sunday
God of This World
America