bitter semen, rotten and putrid
to hand down all imperfections
cloned and shat upon
rancid vomit upon the canvas
all the makings for a needed abortion
the time to sever the head is long overdue
to fell the family tree
to still your filth encrusted tongue
with axe in hand and blade in head
this shall be your undoing
be still your poisoned tongue
bite and swallow
spew forth wretched disease
and drown in your blood
contrived by those depraved
contracted and spread by fools
cure yourself, for soon it will be you
the sheep among the wolves
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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