Ambrazura

Storm in your brains

Ambrazura
The long way of the road, maker of the evil,
Take away my hearing and nose, blind my eyes.
Not to feel the space, dipping into the night
To freeze in a stuper, waiting for virgin soil.

Rapid passage of a torn string
Attracts me so and makes me drunk
And tornado in brains explodes my skull
And the knife of guillotine I'll drop on my neck.

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