Text: Iamerror. Otras Canciones. Forest Of Fellatio.

:
can I not tread on these unholy branches any longer?
the ground is worn, my feet are stuck in god knows what.

I would contemplate existentialist bullshit if the trees weren't fucking staring me down

this can't seriously be a motherfucking lake.
this makes no goddamn sense I'm going home (fuck this)
at least 'til I get some head of illusion.