Locusts are coming Spine will twist, heads will cave I...
The God machine is hungry for individualism and ripe brains...
The pagan flames burn through the night Everything's mine Blackness...
Across your face I see what you are You wanna...
WE smoke the toenails and hair of the wiseman under...
A creature made of sunshine her eyes were like the...
Bleeding on your highway baby Harvest is a' coming in...
feel the wetness of her tongue that slides across my...
Fingered slowly like the first time you came The agents...
If I took this cigarette and put it out on...