Soft spare roads have led a path of ancient pieces of grey skin They were built by children's hands No longer sutured by moth mouths There is nothing towards the end Only feathers of stuffed dreams Throwing murmurs of old slumbers Simplify my will to dance I'm not impressed Your teeth are bent Don't tell me how to repent Infiltrate the veins of kings Watch them shudder at your prayers Gates of flesh tone city charms work the ways Around cold sores Tilted winter in our blood stream Nervous twitches take hold Faster than the speed of brain sweat Touch the water with your hush hands I'm not impressed Your teeth are bent Don't tell me how to repent Rush in deep in your grave Bury me deep in your grave Rush in deep in your grave Bitter snakes tips have joined this trip To warn me of your virtued juice Slithered grins of maverick games have grown unrusted rumbled lies There is no one here to sing songs of flowers in despair Negativity is ingrown Only to be vile, vile Ravished, ravished