Right inside it rests, on the forehead and the chest
This mortal shell, dropped and humbled by the smell
Sorrow to me, of which we do not know the name
Garbled by the swarm, undone when I run
And shimmer like, a dewdrop on a
That’s all be, away with history
rapture a 50 died 1835
join mess, the vest
With them in that’s the that to be
Sighed in the breeze, countless casualties
everyone was born
for to here
out care
How they they dead
neither, for their humbler of
we’ll all be, washed with
50 in
the vanished mess, the vest with God
in the that I want to
stopped
occidental sky, it’s trouble every
fatal, plead me
I’m forged, every guarantee
in the till
gone
That’s be, washed away with
a died 1835
join the mess, vest God Pepsi
With them in that’s the that want to