Pest by Decapitated
It's raining birds, seagulls, nightingales
They don't sing, they stink, feathers glow in the dark
Black clouds thicken, your shutters won't help
No one to answer your prayers, Lord of Flies sends his regards
What doesn't kill you makes you strive for death
What doesn't wound you makes you cut your wrists
Fear not the sickness that harms your body
This one will leave you in perfect shape
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