Texty:
Broken Hope The Bowels Of Repugnance

Take you with my skinning hearth Strap you in my restraining chair Clean and hone my instruments Then the torture will begin Blood drips off your finger

In the deep underwater I am sinking, Water, H2O, soaking my pores, Lungs filling with fluid, impairing, Struggling beneath the surface for oxygen, I

disintegrates. Female organ structures in decomposing states, This shall be the last of my blind dates. I spread her withered labias, they split, ripped and broke