Pestilential

Now, come bear them Inside
Means you're ready
And somewhat indign
Fun culled, nailed, must have been
Means you're ready
We're seething right here

Your ending night, rue and all
No, No
You render entirety real, real

Inside lost at sea, cold winds and nothing between
Kill me, cut me free, you reach in yet nothing in me
How does it feel? What does it do?
Follow me in

[Summoning demons]

Untold terror in sight
Brace and steady or someone will die
Run, row, heave, muster being
Means you're ready

Run skittish into typical desire
A lowered cost according to you
You reel in winds too rough for pretty minds
You'll never know one

While I can't see
I can't feel
I can't hear
Our skin is peeled
Broken rib
Rotten feel
It's always me

Come breathe it in and through this pride you'll die
So let it win, succumb to the king inside
We'll guard this child but beware the crimson tide
You're never just one
Row, heave
Row, heave



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