Beyond the Stage where we all meet, the Mirages of Children Kings, Sin Omnium breeds Reveries: All must be dead, the Windmen`s lurid Masks & hellish Laughters.
Greed Generation Zero, Wheels in the World Machine, Child Emperors 2000 countlessly march to the Katalypse.
When Suicide turns Shots & Showers golden in Siren Seas and swallowing until we sleep - Strangulation Alpha
With thirteen Wounds in every Hand we creep the Circles for our Lord, a burning Star for each to gnaw, All must be dead except the Forests of the strangled Necks.
And through Year-Millions we stray Million Manias, a Cannibal-Lighthouse was built of our Nights. And it drags us towards sweet Assnakements through deep Gullet-Tunnels with Dark on each Side.
Fornever will a Word lament, nor any Deeds our Feelings show, since somewhen Times are sure to come when all is dead, in all Directions throttled to the Ground.
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