Brazen chill of fire wrestle life out of the lake.
The life of he is wandering in the loser of a heart burned in the sight of the forgetters.
Pick me up by the shoulders, Saints, before the wolves rush through the tunnels and define me.
Bleed the fire, Heat up the hearth with my heart.
Gouge my organs and solder my eyes shut.
Then I won't cry.
The whore will suck you dry.
You'll throw the last of your life towards him.
Regions of toxic abominations will fight their way into your mind.
You're poisoned now, dear.
Keep yourself clear.
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