What are you going to do?
What are you going to say?
As vultures are still
A thousand plagues have cursed these hills
In a watch tower collapsed face rhinestone plated I’m ill
The thousand fret sprayed loaded for decay
On this unholy morning on my death decade
I saw your headless king galloping
Pale stallion changeling
A black sand whale turned this desert into a sea
Three men standing only one on his knees
Poison this tree with this last symphony