Texty:
Agoraphobic Nosebleed The Poacher Diaries

all circumstance is sabotage that which does not kill us makes us stranger command chaotic brute force the stars in your eyes stolen reprogrammed another

i wage an unholy war against your fucked up soul the shattered illusions of a thousand nightmares preserved in a jar of shit by god surprise you fucking

the clouds attacked slowly obscuring everything we took out our eyes and pretended we could see

your hope collapsed like a burning orphanage under the weight of their expectations it must seem routine for you now snowing in their spit languishing