beneath your dirt and rotting soil
the hand that lifts you up will hold you down
the inexorable aura, it draws you in
dissolving in its presence
until there's none of you left
bottled trauma, bad memories
it is a stench that one can't forget
one that will never wash out
the inexorable aura, it draws you in
beneath your dirt and rotting soil
the hand that lifts you up will hold you down
i am a depressed meat robot that outputs deathcore about how bad i feel all of the time. i write and record all the music, and most unfortunately, i engineer it as well.