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• Artiste: Too Tall Grizzly
• Titre: Debauchery
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We can never be anything more Than a sorry excuse for a fledgling plague But if we keep it up this way We'll have em' writhing, have em' running, keep em' all afraid The coming plague of lusts Leaves me hard-pressed to whet my tongue, The flood of my ravenous past is leaving me high and dry I make no guarantees, this would be hit or miss But honestly nothing rivals this bastards bliss We've all pledged our ties To the insistent wracking of implication And let the locust set our bones And rattle the few left in the poisoned mold A deadman's post-mortem swansong A masochistic creation of wealth Born and bred with the illest intention Vaccinated at the point of conception I make no guarantees, this would be hit or miss But honestly nothing rivals this bastards bliss Sing it like you got no shame, We're heaven sent we're heaven made I dipped my toes in the drowning hole Force-fed from the mouth of blight We can break these patterns Of debaucherous nights