Weight. Cross. 'Round our necks. Can't cut this tumour. Grows, it grows, it's growing. World. Stone. On our backs. Weighing the hearst of the dead against the feather of truth Drawing a suitable punishment over a brimming world of sin.
Weight. Cross. 'Round our necks. Can't cut this tumour. Grows, it grows, it's growing. World. Stone. On our backs. Weighing the hearst of the dead against the feather of truth Drawing a suitable punishment over a brimming world of sin.