Lower class, born to breed
Knuckles drag, ovular bleed

Climb the wall, cyclic pain
Hit the floor, the sapling maim
Another empty jar and a fist of blood
Diadem crushed under a sea of mud
You live in line, you fuck, you die
In the folded repetition of a thousand moments
Under the warmest blanket of being
In the folded repetition of a thousand moments
Under the warmest blanket of being

Climb the wall, cyclic pain
Hit the floor, the sapling maim
Another product of an inbred system
Heightened to it’s peak by backwards dictum