An Industry Of Murder by Graveyard
Wherever you go, just follow
In the shadow of your stay.
Where you're looking like a vulture
Watching every move.
Do you feel all of the souls?
You always will thin legs
Alone you walk among us
Your evil won't be mad.
We're the proper lies,
The public faults, it's all I want.
The unholy outliers,
Got demonishing supplies.
All friends turn into enemies
And greed is at your palm.
Soon we'll die in mothers grieve and
The story is the same.
Wherever you point your finger
Always violence causes it.
Paid the cause of something came from the gain
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