آهنگ: Miss May I. Monument. Our Kings.
:
Holding back from near consumption.
Starving to taste ourselves
and the sensation of an existence.
feast for only the ones who are kings.
The outcome of a revolution built to consume itself.
The outcome of a revolution built to consume its own.
This will contain what has already been said before.
The message enclosed will be the one we dread the most.
Coming generations will learn that our kings were nothing
but cannibals of their own race not strong enough to be men.
And when the young will rise they will tell them.
This will contain what has already been said before.
The message enclosed will be the one we dread the most.
And when the young will rise they will tell them all to go.
Go back to your hell.
Holding back from near consumption.
Starving to taste ourselves
and the sensation of an existence.
A feast for you the one they call a king.
Holding back from near consumption.
Starving to taste ourselves
and the sensation of an existence.
feast for only the ones who are kings.
The outcome of a revolution built to consume itself.
The outcome of a revolution built to consume its own.
This will contain what has already been said before.
The message enclosed will be the one we dread the most.
Coming generations will learn that our kings were nothing
but cannibals of their own race not strong enough to be men.
And when the young will rise they will tell them.
This will contain what has already been said before.
The message enclosed will be the one we dread the most.
And when the young will rise they will tell them all to go.
Go back to your hell.
Holding back from near consumption.
Starving to taste ourselves
and the sensation of an existence.
A feast for you the one they call a king.
Miss May I
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