LYRIC

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I was taught the language of the old gods
last new child, of the lost regimes.

I boarded up the school myself once I had learned the trade,
of drawing down the curtain, at the end of dreams

The future won’t belong to any father of gold,
The futures far beyond what they can think,
The future will be borderless and red and queer and bold,
for I was born to make my kind extinct.
(For I was born to make my kind extinct)

(end studies x 3, {let me tell ya bout}, e-end studies)

And final fading echo.
Of the final sounding note.
Of The symphony that killed the symphony.
I’ll be sealing up the trench,
Where every shop wreck goes to sink.
Yes I was born To make my kind extinct.

Singing in the language of the first gods,
And no ones gunna sing like this again.
They’ll have bodies made of humming bird and cassowary
There’s one thing you’ll need, before it can begin.

(End studies x2, own own all on, End studies x2)

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  1. Joe

    October 6, 2021 at 11:15 am

    Let’s be honest… we searched for this.

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