When a poem still unwritten makes its way through space
its determined to be seated in a mental case
that will give it all the nurishment it needs
to grow into an epic of great altitude
to make the virgins wet by beeing b****** crude
and lyrically complex to who may read
chorus
plauge is beeing human beeing
haunt the shadows of their dreams
i‘ll born
i‘ll be long
i‘ll be gone
before you breathe
human beeing is a disease
haunt the shadows of their dreams
i‘ll born
i‘ll be long
i‘ll be gone
before you breathe
when a picture is to horrible to make headlines
it will stay inside the head of those who lay their eyes
on the evidence of memories of crime
it will stay until the picture is a mantelpiece
a manifest of hedonism and it wont cease
until its paper is consumed by tharmageddon.