8corpses – 404 testo

attendere prego...

b-tch, i am flagrant
bash a head against the pavement
chain up a f-cker to cinder blocks so they ain’t buoyant
leave their body in the ocean, all vacant
auditory hallucinations exalting satan
this music is therapy, not entertainment
i’m brazen, my self-loathing is blatant
the voices in my head are constant
all i’ve known has been this hatred
bottled up inside, my anger is archaic
like a compendium from the pagans
i’ve been so patient
but now i feel content in makin’ these statements
so i guess i’m a psych patient
freed from cognitive enslavement
i don’t care about all the payment
i’ve been waitin’
the duality of speaking on my thoughts
feels sacred yet amazing
my love is either latent or nom existent
propensity to not give a single f-ck
routinely tellin’ people to shut the f-ck up
they don’t know when enough is enough
a majority of them just spew bluff after bluff
b-tch, i am stoic, openly a heretic
404 error on these f-cks to give incredulous
i hate this, take my life, and tell people i’m giving it up for lent
my death is overdue like some rent
so i’ll expiate my ailments through death
surrept-tious, never pretentious
taboo motherf-cker, you’re lackl-ster
soul got an aperture

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