Bed Of Flies

Agoraphobic Nosebleed

all circumstance is sabotage that which does not kill

us makes us stranger command chaotic brute force the

stars in your eyes stolen reprogrammed another

headless blunder with blood up its sleeves the priests

live in the towers they put thoughts in my head making

me sin while sinning through me mold the little shit

figure make it dance break its legs they call it

building character a villain to be exact