On the ground beneath your feet
the leaves promise the trees they will not speak
Once you find your worst side
we will know exactly where you hide
We follow the beat
We follow fresh meat
We feed off your lies
We feed off your remaining ties
You mean nothing to me
You mean nothing to us
You will rot in hell for what you’ve done
DEMENTED THEME BY: FUCKYEAHADEK POWERED BY: TUMBLR

