RareForm
Bluelight Crew
What's it matter if the sun collides with the moon devouring everything in the Universe ending this transition. You could no longer think it was you who would bring patrimony; ever dressed in ethnocentrism; the reckoning refused.
What's it matter if I replace your God with my God and asked who was who.
What's it matter if my ideas fade and my insides liquefy bringing me closer to where you are; no post-mortem refute.
I love how you saunter past the truth and incessantly try to repair a gulled idiotic excuse; here we are -- where are you?
What's it matter if your mother, or the one you smother in sedation, drank oblivion and cast their tears where nowhere has existed for years; choking fears.
What's it matter if everyone except me has a reason for a reason for a reason, too many thoughtless thoughts; bathe your treason.
What's it matter if blood seeps from the sheep's eyes, lamenting Christ's giest as if he'd lifted the sun with his might right before their eyne.
I love the hopelessness of this sheer simplistic reality dissembling and embedding endless credits; he was-she was regretted, rains in your headset.
What's it matter if I replace your God with my God and asked who was who.
What's it matter if my ideas fade and my insides liquefy bringing me closer to where you are; no post-mortem refute.
I love how you saunter past the truth and incessantly try to repair a gulled idiotic excuse; here we are -- where are you?
What's it matter if your mother, or the one you smother in sedation, drank oblivion and cast their tears where nowhere has existed for years; choking fears.
What's it matter if everyone except me has a reason for a reason for a reason, too many thoughtless thoughts; bathe your treason.
What's it matter if blood seeps from the sheep's eyes, lamenting Christ's giest as if he'd lifted the sun with his might right before their eyne.
I love the hopelessness of this sheer simplistic reality dissembling and embedding endless credits; he was-she was regretted, rains in your headset.
