Ashel Deviate (Mora)

take a step off of that silver bird from your planet

and you brought a little bit of that cold with you

ring me out like you would your bastarding father

and youre so quick to stick to that scum

hungry like a pirhana

swallow a little of that sea

now taste a little bit of that salt in me

throw up a little of it on your knees

now doesn't that bring you back to the beginning

before you poured your elements away

now sing back to the bottom of it all

seal your lips with the black stitch of a secret

parade with that speechless dryness of the desert

lay flat under the lime light and feed off of the fiction

cold callus and boiled between the bleak deep of your dirty hands

swallow a little of that sea

now taste a little bit of that salt in me

throw up a little of it on your knees

now doesn't that bring you back to the beginning

before you poured your elements away

now sing back to the bottom of it all