VOICE_009 - Psalm №3 | Текст песни

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• VOICE_009
• Psalm №3

A sickly albino found a bleary old wino stumbling his way through the dump. So he called to his gang, who answered with chains, to give the old drunkard his lumps. He fell to his knees and begged "Spare me boys please, for once I was young just like thee. From duty I'd run for a fair bit of fun. You children remind me of me". "O you're not our brother," said one then the other of those moon-faced and misshapen boys. So they tied him to a tree and they clubbed both his knees and his sobs made a sad, weary noise, like "Ohhhhh...". He sang "Ohhhhh...". Then down in that glade, they took their cruel blades and they flayed his pink flesh into ribbons. Yet still their blood boiled, so they doused him oil and as he went up in flames, howled like gibbons. I preach holy gospel, so take this to heart: Life rushes toward death from the moment it starts.

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