Sangtekst: Don The Reader. Reader.

Rosy cheeked are the meek.
Convulsing so delicate.
While making love to the drink.
Inhale the effluvium of the blue-blooded void iron-lung.
Exhale the terrorist suitcase riot.
A carnivorous co-existence that seldom reaches accord.
Amongst a colorless crowd the welfare mothers face, Paused,
Glassy like the lake.
Rooted.
His arms heavy as aged oak.
Youre drowning between the fingers of their irony.
Enthusiast Indeed!
Your cosmetic frame buffers only the charlatans.
The apprehender of the mountain tops that tried to run away,
bare footed.
The true deceiving paladin that seized the vacant summit and
raped it.
Of all of its glory to knit it into her appetite.
Anchored.
64 years dead my cataract frozen as they leaped