Bienvenida

Out of the darkness which prevails them, they crawl they cry they spit out the madness they bow down, i can taste your blood, its like absinthe its the taste of their copious dreams
A toast to those most sacrilegious of days, i can hear you insects whining about your life thy have it done to your self thy must gain the splendor of life to thy self, your damned don't blame it on me.