I'll scratch the surface until my fingers bleed. Nails ripped out until my skin is empty. My eyes cut as shallow as arrows, my veins are nothing but vain. The evolution of thought has revolved around the emptiness of man. Material emotions and a glove for every hand, to protect my filthy skin from cleanliness of life, while I watch silently as the serene rot. Don't let me be buried in my shallow mind. Let me wither in a holy state. Wither. Be free. Rot. In the deep. Don't let me be buried in my shallow mind. Weak minds wither. Bury the rest. Free my body. Buried.
Ce disque me rappelle les Rage against the machine, fatalement. Mais la musique me plaît davantage, car plus hardcore. Il y a du riff pour des mois. gregory duveau
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