.and the rest are just messages etched upon the edifice.
Edifice, you’re better than this.
Look how dead it is.
Look how upset it is to be dead.
Look at it shook up, cooked on a skewer hot lead
with a body made of pure and a fuhrer at the head.
Sound familiar?
The time is now to move pounds and get killier,
and shove shit around till the ground gets hillier.
Summit of Montpelier,
see you there,
with want like Hellfire desires air.
But for now;
take trigger, pull it,
make bullets out of your plow.
We’ve seen the seams stitching this dream,
we’ll pull it apart somehow.
We’ll be the sweat on the brow,
we’ll get to the head of this,
and the rest are just messages etched upon the edifice.
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Comments
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ridiculous.
Why's all your shit gotta be so brilliant? Knock it off and give the rest of a chance, man.
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