Congress - Body Wheeps (1995-blackened persistance) | Текст песни

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• Congress
• Body Wheeps (1995-blackened persistance)

I can't run from your threat
a shotgun to my head.
I don't stand a chance
my faith not in my hands.

Burn, creep, pain, deep.

Breathe, inhale the fumes
force me to consume.
It chokes, it burns, it bites
slow death overnight.

Burn, creep, pain, deep.

Feel it burn
feel it creep
feel the pain
run so deep.

Poison fills my lungs
festering inside
unasked infestation.
Effects untold in time.

Feel it burn
feel it creep
feel the pain
run so deep.

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