The Frisk
East Coast Funeral
My Mother's silenceMy Brother's violenceStranger in a casket we called familyHell would be too kind of a resting placeMy Mother's silenceMy Brother's violenceStranger in a casket we called familyI still can't stand the sight of your fucking faceFor you, for me, for us, that's why I do the things I doFor you, for me, for us, don't like my best? Fuck you!
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