Burn The Priest - Bloodletting | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Burn The Priest
• Bloodletting

Archaic methods transfer through well in the face of mass denial. Bitterness
fuels the mode for the escape of mediocrity. Stepping the grate, shattered
nerves ground down to a glass edge carrying me away. Bloodletting a favorite
game of solitaire. A suicide mission destined to fail, a moving ladder to
climb taking me away. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Burn The Priest еще тексты