I Know My Rites
You mold the soreness of your parts
And hold the strain just like a cross
Blessed Heartache
I'm serrated in a milk bath
Tearing at your Hemingway
Eat and Partake
I think his body is a tomb
To think, a grave bore from a womb
Mess And Softness
Siege your whisper near my faults
And shake the plates of wailing walls
Crash and undress
Beat my best bet
Blessed and haunted
And hold the strain just like a cross
Blessed Heartache
I'm serrated in a milk bath
Tearing at your Hemingway
Eat and Partake
I think his body is a tomb
To think, a grave bore from a womb
Mess And Softness
Siege your whisper near my faults
And shake the plates of wailing walls
Crash and undress
Beat my best bet
Blessed and haunted
Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Cornelius
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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