Amroque - The Mocker | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Amroque
• The Mocker

Make the clever faces
to take my taunts with value:
You're measly while you sift
through this shit.
You have no future;
You have damned all your own gods.
Your angels run from your stench away,
Demons are squeamish
about your soul, empty like dry pit.
This is funny
when you go in church to pray
about the health of money.
The mad old women lead you hand in hand,
as foolish children.
I'm funny -
I'm afraid to die with horselaugh.
Mean yourself as scientists,
study the drawings of feeble-minded,
search for the sense.
It is important to know, how much is the cost of
the death of your masters,
could you think about a cost of your lives?
I funny - I see you buried in pits,
returned on being eaten alive by worms,
but you prettily smile and wait for thanks for ruined fates.
You're measly while you sift
through this shit.

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