Blood From The Soul - To Spite | Текст песни

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• Blood From The Soul
• To Spite

Gorged devoid all reasoning trapped against which i can fight devoured rational thinking deadline poisoning tempting dangerous thoughts belief in insane's force to be reckoned atoning second skin begins to open sores of remorse to spite the gland that breeds forged a thickening welt of might that lights a weltering flesh fire her tone sickening and threatening releases a coldness in my bones to spite to spite

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