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the art of perfect back-stabbing - storm of sorrows lyrics

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sucking purs poison from the teats of the triple
among those primates truth is sour as liquid fix

self*fixed servants of the grand disillusion
pulling venom’s strings, the truth under aim

perverted beliefs, insane morality
elite stigma in a common shape

bizarre, frantic philosophy, blessed by the sick
by the words of murder profane conception k!lls

kicking pure honey from the lips of the triple
parasite kindness, truth as sweet as salt

self*fixed servants of the worst odd abuse
selling souls for gold, thе truth under attack

manipulation, misshaped reality
forsakеn priest of forsaken words

bizarre, frantic philosophy, blessed by the sick
by the words of murder profane conception k!lls

preaching seduce with a poisoned aura
stabbing your back in ingenious ways
bizarre, frantic philosophy, blessed by the sick
by the words of murder profane conception k!lls

fixing pure poison like a wh0re of the triple
reckless liars, truth is sour as liquid fix

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