Testo di Pentassam Constellation

your hope collapsed like a burning orphanage under the weight of their expectations it must seem routine for you now snowing in their spit languishing in their refuse a human/virus a victim of disease called circumstance their real faces are the faces of disgust the only kind you see from down here here there is no healing only the slowing of decay i've heard they still smile in their world perhaps you will go there someday and destroy their happiness