"Obsequey (The Death Of Art)" lyrics

[Left Speaker:]
This is the Golden Age of Grotesque
Be prepared for what you may find
The hole we have to fuck her
They taste tension because it is their life
Chrome complimental. Stop Looking for ourselves
Bored towards most of it
We have grown to complain
The hole we have to fuck her
I'm still captive, hide in the distortion
It's a shame I'm still expected to wave
Though we have no disgruntled
We are lower girls. Man girls good evening
Nothing is more propaganda than the world
Tired of them stabbing
I am a forever but still I am a door to all of the worst who are jittery
Crazy people pretend me to not give a fuck
And we are made of a dry contact, without the people we aren't alive
We are cows scraping up our genitals, we saved our best milk
Propaganda is not done
Break down me
Then the faces will evolve
Let's just see the only child
The bored are to be of devoured, but not you

[Right Speaker:]
Let's see what we will bring
We will hide
We have grown just to die
Does it?
Their propaganda is not heavy
I have grown bored with their best milk
Evolve. Contact them
Complimental
Tell them to hide
Bored out of this world
No one will answer us
Girls
No one is more abnormal or unimportant than, like them
I tried, I fucked them still
No more establishing. Bored. Don't accept them.About.Our life
Chrome. Bite their bullet. There is fresh something
But all I'm trying to do
Is about their lifestyle is fucked
Without those people we grow disgruntled
Propaganda has always worked
They are very dull. I expected their lives. Girls
There has to be something