𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆
Participar da comunidade
𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆
I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing
The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you
And I want your violence, your silent sedation
Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation
The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you
And I want your violence, your silent sedation
Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation
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