Burn The Priest

Lies Of Autumn


ŞARKI SÖZÜ


As the leaves fall yellowing like aged paper, thoughts turn acrid and curl
like cigarette smoke rising from a butt ground out on my arm. Step into this
decay and experience dissolution. Crucified on a plank of cruelty, crucified
on a plank of apathy to sleep the winter away. Immobile for the cold
duration. Huddled in isolation, to sleep the winter away.

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