It’s like the bustle in a house the morning after death. The solemnest of industries enacted upon earth. The sweeping up the heart and putting love away. We shall not want to use again until eternity. Late at night, late at night, you cry, you cry, and we lament over you and we rejoice in you. ( Something to think and think about? ) So was it, so was it good, was it worthwhile. Want to know a secret? When you wear your death, you can hold a crown. See you in the end, because that’s where you belong.
Think quite endlessly fornicate in justice for me. Wake up swimming and take me out for cream white face. Meaning nothing to me. Cross Surdo.
Certain death has a history of decay…..decaying….decay….waste away like everything should. the bustle in a house the morning after death. The solemnest of industries enacted upon earth. The sweeping up the heart and putting love away. We shall not want to use again until eternity. Think quite endlessly fornicate in justice for me. Wake up swimming and take me out for cream white face. Meaning nothing to me. Cross Surdo.
De-side which side you’re on. This love in this head-on collision tastes perfect.
Decide which side you’re on. Heaven is having your car in the right crash.
We’re standing in a line.
After this, after that, after everything. Forget this, forget that, forget everything.
Nothing is good when there’s plastic for skulls. Take me out to go. Take me out to go.
So is it too much for you? So is it too much for you? This rose inside my case.
Over me, Over me. I want to kill you. I want to see your cream white face.