70 percent prairie, I care no more for laws.
Crushed under tongues.
Can I be a potter? One that can build subterranean tombs,
Just like the cops?
Ornamentals of truth, Out of reach of our children.
Gagged and molested.
Don't trust the bonds. Flat-faced; replaceable.
Nations pass. Half day, half night.
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
