-48C ]

aurally:

Piercing your soul
Touching your womb
Praying to [fill]
[fill]
Put the water right back to the womb
Feeding the raging pain
Screaming your name
Turning the page
Not reading the words
Not playing the game

This time none of my gods will save me
None of wounds will heal
This time none of my gods will heal me
None of my friends will feel

Get on with this
I rather die to feel this agony
I rather go into the cold
Of the abyss
I rather freeze to feel you're hunting me
I rather go into the cold