Paroles:
Moore Sonny Copaface

... Who speak in my head. The more messes I made, The closer I came home... From my roam. Understoods are few, Though im speaking in simple tongue. Copaface

crummy eyes and blistered thighs a bent brain full of lies a beacon for the fiction body voodoo embodiments in morbid tense misplace your grace to chase your copaface