Luyện nghe bài hát Castrate The Wreckage

I freedom
all hope was freedom
Self improve or self

in your face but not visible
The tip of your tongue but you can't
Grotesque distortions, dark
Virtual abattoir sadists

A host to parasites day and night
The need for something out of life

Lost in oblivion and silent
A you cannot smell or taste
The endless trance, the muffled
I await my second

The secret webs of
the threads of self-rejection
The secret of emotion
net for all our pain

Castrate the mental
is a thief
No antidote for
Sow the you reap