A Stench of Sage

I am the worm that moves from page to page
Reaching for his arm, patched-up stripped sleeve
Steel spirals shine from their vests

This is madness
Pure darkness

Burning death-flies and contorted flesh
Looking from the line, they mumbled
Streams of steam tumble, drifting from our gums

A wish for the clouds
Pure harsh rain
I am the mixed menace
I am the half-bred whore

They didn't ask for anything but our mothers forest floor



Credits
Writer(s): Rorik Abram Brooks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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