They're within this era
We are sacrosanct
Taunting a ravence to you
My squawks have fit the holster
My fate burn every house
Like no other major I am emptier without

Bow down
Servants
Free to appall
Marks the venom
Lushing terminal

When I became a larvae, you fed me from your plate
Now my slouch is nervous sinking by the face
Wrinkled by this gravel skinless trace of time
Will cut which proudly in your cheap and brittle sigh

My glands admit this carnage
These pews been back out these
A uniformic resu with the alsunating pleabs

Bow down
Servants
Free to appall
Marks the venom
Lushing terminal

That cesspool it becomes you just north of the eyebrows
Squawk the whole full repucle when the rashes go blonde
The salted stitch is patient while waiting to engulf
His plasma from this hoax, pretending to be us

Embalming all the fluids, I mushed, I mushed
I prefer to burn them, I mushed, I mushed

Bow down
Servants
Free to appall
Marks the venom
Lushing terminal