Fistful Of Hollow Testo

Come inside
I can show you another room
Step aside
I've the keys to an empty tomb

It's private and quiet
A darkened respite for me and you

Give it up
For the craft you've cut yourself for Scare up the ghosts and confess
Don your scars and scorn

Mind over matter
Dizzy and battered no more

The cream of the crop is corrupt
It's low brow at the top end
The cream at the top's hyped-up
And over exaggerated
Obvious and jaded to no end

Channel it all
Into a manuscript
Or divert it all
Into a clenched fist

Mind over manners
A visceral splatter
Let's all burn all the banners Whistle and hum
All the hymns as we go