كلمات Humanist

You told me to lower the highs It hurts my eyes Poisonous fumes Stink in your grave My night is saved Inhale the stench Stench of the dead Remember the stench Stench of the dead Beer in the room Piss on the floor We crave some more I know we suck Still hate your guts Still hate your gods Our cries ruining your sense Your sense of our shred Remember the stench The stench of the dead