I exclude light and wash my hands of you.
By larger being devoured,
leaving only me to improve.
Weep.
Don't f**king weep.
Your weak eyes cry tears of the week.
Weep.
Catch up with the sheep.
It's a sacrilegious ceremony.
New flavor of the week.
Nothing's sacred in the faces of the soulless
(that you're made into).
You're raptured by a guilty stifle down.
...And what I'll do
is mess you up and lie to you.
Look at you
You know it's true.
It's a field trip to Hollywood Babylon.
But
I'm
not
coming.
No.
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