Flesh harvest
Psyclon nine
They have no more power
They have no room to deflower
They have no room to deflower
To end the fear to end this pain
We must cleanse this earth with the sulphur and rain
Still you're all waiting for perdition's son
Who needs your fucking god when I've got my gun?
Forget flesh harvest
That which brings us to our knees will separate our fantasies
Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor envie uma correção clicando aqui!