Termites Hollow
Every word she said
Lured me into surrounding
My fingers around her throat
Now I roll along
With her severed head
Her design is fit only
For a creature as foul as
Every word she said
Was like feeding
Paint chips to an infant
Her coil was comforting
With black blood and a frozen touch
Hopefully the hordes of worms
Will take the rest of her away
As I roll along
With her severed head
Autor(es): BRAD CASARIN, CHARLES MONIZ, KYLE BISHOP, MATTHEW JONES, SHAWN MAGILL
