The Sailor Does Not Pray For Wind, He Learns To Sail
Have we sacrificed enough to sate you, great monster? Oh great consumer, when will you be satisfied? Oh great narcissus, when will we have thanked and praised you enough? It seems that existence is that step closer to perfection that you will never make old foe. We have been fighting over one sweet soul for some years now. Where are your loving hands? Has she heard your intimate whisper? Would she know your caring face? I guess not. Your eternally terrible loss old foe.
Гуру Песен