Cold Repeater - Replacire

Resource

Precision

There is nothing in the glove when the sun shakes

Hypochondriac love

Steeds are returning fast

Look far but show up last

Who is the practicer?

Recharge the option

Die for yourself

For yourself

For yourself

For yourself

For yourself

For yourself

For yourself

In the wake of nothing

In the next deep cut

Falling out of skin drops

The edge is blunt

Future ornamental, plastic lullabies

It’s the concrete texture that’s never dry

What you’ve barely written upon your sleeve

What you hold beside you, still it pleas

Many a death have we played chess on boiling floors

Who’s the witness?

Let him birth us once more

Reeks of commitment

Wrench in the receiver’s plan

Pulling the black recoil

Substance containment

Drink

Atrophy

Atrophy

Atrophy

Uphill bleed

Uphill bleed

Uphill bleed

Uphill bleed

Upside down cracked stone

Never reborn, we consolidate crusted nightmares

For the ones that we remember

For the bastards we have fathered

Prosthetic ocean of salty sighs

Gods have delusions even without eyes

Flip creation over, stab it once or twice

Laughing through the exit

Crying’s not nice

Trash stained whirlpool

Glass brained girl

Look behind you, Cold Repeater

Where’s your instinct?

The cryptic feeling of life is upon the steps that lead to available fear

Breaking every mirror, still pretending to care

Are you certain your hands are new?

Immortal bodies are few

Desolation, it stinks of man

Creep around the filter

Awaken to something

Harvest

Draining every source

Sanguine windows

Something old approaches

Creases form in metal walls

We can’t wait for hatred to crawl inside you

Coughed up riddle seized by dying words

Protruding guilt finds the next world

Flung up shuttle hacked by the absurd

Misunderstood spine in the dirt

For what it’s worth, you felt the hurt

Look behind you, Cold Repeater

Where’s your instinct?

You should feed it

Look behind you, Cold Repeater

Where’s your instinct?

You might need it