catacombs under rome, where chants whispered
spoke of thones in the tone of a black lizard
grippin septors of stone, cracked fissures
shiny lectures of chrome, mag scriptures
pushin guts from ya clothes back inwards
consumed in my lunacy, presumably
im bound to stay underground like a sewage leak
so my sound can pollute all the bluest seas
Last edited by ArcherPriest; 09-15-2011 at 01:26 PM.
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