The Flaming Tsunamis - Walking Graves | Текст песни

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• The Flaming Tsunamis
• Walking Graves

eight weeks, trapped in the mountain
no food, no one around us
cannot bear another week this
appetite is craving weakness
satisfaction, we dare not speak up
but we seak it

never thought we would taste so good
oh god, just a little taste, oh god, til we leave this place

it's been eight weeks since we got home
we crave that flesh that no one knows
taste so good, i must propose
in factories, we'll start to grow
human flesh, mass produced
human flesh, to consume
(you're gonna taste so good)
you'll want to EAT YOURSELF, EAT YOURSELF
slit the throat, it tastes so good
bleed to death, it tastes so good
raised for murder
it tastes so good

together we share this guilt
suppress the thought of life we've killed
congradulations we knew that you could
we all murder because it tastes good
the burden of taste

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