траур (traur) (bgr) – world to end lyrics
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these are the sores of the world
we poke inside and observe and delight
crossing lines to pull the rope which binds
if the world is to end in our minds
plotting our own perfect demise
firm is the grip over the planet we prize
blood pours through fingers, necrotize
destruction in our sights
ritual
habitual
leave this mess in flames and radiation
a canvas blank with no explanation
individual
spiritual
swelling in size, no room for migration
nothing is left, but to scream in elation
world to end
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