Frisk, The
East Coast Funeral
My Mother's silence
My Brother's violence
Stranger in a casket we called family
Hell would be too kind of a resting place
My Mother's silence
My Brother's violence
Stranger in a casket we called family
I still can't stand the sight of your fucking face
For you, for me, for us, that's why I do the things I do
For you, for me, for us, don't like my best? Fuck you!
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