Crumbling at the very core of my being
Dropped on my spine and now I find
My spine is made of gla**
Wax veined, moth to the flame
Bones grind, dropped on my spine
Bloodstained gla** in the sand
Softly slaughter the lamb
So slow, knife in my back
Remains like needle tracks
Beautiful words are seldom true
Tongue of thorns, my spine is gla**
Spinegla**
My spine is gla**