Finite Automata şarkı sözleri

white grinning smock kicks the roots of fate whilst in this social cage and tripping over carnal pains alchemic change could never be the catalyst for normalcy Hippocrates defaced whilst crawling through the human wastes with democratic feigns for profit gains or is it too much to trust the doctor's touch? uneducated fear that licks upon a wealthy ear reaching back to scrape the self absorbed and private itch surgeon displays a weak malaise that spins the seed of greed to carry on that industry respectfully to disagree white gloves pick away the fruits of fate rake in the cure delayed that pours upon the potion gray apothecary with medicated meat that laughs upon immune defeat

Sanatçının Fotoğrafı

Finite Automata

Albüm Görseli

Here Won No One