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Without This WinWithout This Win
(Speaker phone: “on your mark, get set…” ; Connor burst in with metal roar *hold for MORE THAN 5 SECONDS; Enter instrumental, heavy)
*Stephan, normal vocals
I am the black powder in this gun.
Dear god, I hope it hits someone.
Right in the head is just fine.
Even if that head is mine!
Pound your fists against the earth,
Screaming like you did at birth.
Watch the ground cut them in,
Savagery within each sin!
Burn that symbol,
You are my hatred’s kindle.
*Connor, demented metal vocals
And still you won’t fucking hear me!
Maybe you will if I bleed!
*Stephan, normal vocals, fast
Baby, where have you gone?
What have you done?
Without this win…
*Connor, demented metal shout
I AM NO ONE!
Talk to them all, we shall see,
Listen to everything that you believe.
Stitched my eyes and each organ,
Look my way never again!
Cry those tears, but not in my name,
You have only your mistakes to blame!
Go ahead and hurt yo
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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