The filth of our underlings
|
Shall never nourish me completely
|
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Our knowledge is bending our brainwaves congealing
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Force feed the piety that humans are bleeding
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Silk purse from a sows ear is what I¡¯m knitting
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Nourishing off the fat of our rendering
|
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Hail to our underlings
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Our destinies embraced
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Surrender unto abysmal weight
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Hail to our underlings
|
Toiling away
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Collapsing into a servile state
|
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Mouth of komodo shall harbour our healing
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Poisons the serum as our sores are revealing
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Hang nerves out to dry to dampen the feeling
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Rendering for self-symbiotic feeding
|
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Hail to our underlings
|
Who knows not to fight
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Peel back the scabs to blind them all with light
|
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The filth of our underlings
|
Shall never nourish me completely
|
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The Filth Of Our Underlings
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| Byzantine |
