misafir

I Hate Sally



Sickness Of The Ages



This Must Be Hell





Never dreamt of a nuclear shower



And never scraped the flesh from skin and bone



Last call for a soviet summer



The last call



This onslaught won't back down



From fear, cold, everlasting pain:



Insane, hysteria, is all that still remains inside the voices left for dead



Born in black and white through government



When wanting less means breaching fuckin' more



And trying all the while to lose the score



Red plans followed by shadows



Middle fingers curled back in shaking fists



In Petersburg the death is still living



In Petersburg their stories moulding myths:







This must be hell 'cause sides don't count, our options out