anonymous - yak, the atlas lyrics
skinned knees on gravel lots still haunt matriarchs
rats under every radiator in the castle loft
how many times, is it, sorry, you go back to start
pretty sure anyday my bodies gonna coup’de aut
pretty odd
back at the rendezvous, the resevoir?
fryer grease, bleach fumes, sowing up some to*be scars
i’m sorry, we just read this from your tarot card
we should lock you in and kick over the port a john
its that iron clad myriad of mischief
in an anime tee, some joggers and a fat lip
thats still flapping like a gasping koi fish
such a pointless diamond in the ruff
boredoms never enough, losing my lunch
with my ill*kin thats tunch, still using a crutch
destined to being crushed until dust in the wind
so everythings a come up, all i do is win
names mean nothing, but i swear on it
losing like kordell with some mad poise
hearing george orwell in the dad voice
naps won’t work here, getting too paranoid
gather up your reiki just to find all of your cats toys
beat
different sort of isolated despair
an infinite loop of tripping up the stairs
4 stars, crash dummy, set fire to his hair
crescent moon on the forehead
heart’s visually impaired
hang my vocal chords on the coat rack
shake hands with death, walk past dad
smash a glass of bourbon or cognac
fierce diety mask, before you known yak
i deserve a bow of respect from your grown ass
not gonna hold back
get the back hand from yen sid
with a b*tch who rip your head off all praying mantis
names mean nothing, but i swear on it
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