2010-08-15 - unbeliever
there's no words that can describe
what's in store when you subscribe
to the magazine of death
armory of bated breath
open sepulchers of stink
melting down the way you think
into dregs of putrid waste
neurotoxins in your face
laugh it up for now you fools
satan smacks his chops and drools
for young souls to suck them dry
lures them by the lusty eye
leaves them on the burn out heap
till at last they fall asleep
fall into the deep abyss
rockabye
sweet
atheist.
�
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