Lyrics:
Southcott The October Tradition

And this is fleeting, This sick, sickness I'm seeking, With tire tread tired eyes, A crooked smile, You'd love, to defile. Don't let me down, With my

This is fleeting, This sick, sickness I'm seaking. With tire tread tired eyes, A toothless smile, You'd love, to defile. Don't let me down. With my