Aurivore

I'll be late, my lover
The livest bide the gun
I will wait for the evening
My lover
A tall diseased one

Sigh, some go my way
I want to be apart from the mess
I want to be apart from the mess

Hey my lover
I'll enter into Egypt on a broomstick
Give me room
And every sock hanging from the chimney place
I’m fired up

No way
I’m ixe cold
(There’s a skull)
In my room
I do not touch it
I’m not afraid to...
Where went that golden room