Thorns run through embitterd places
And comatose spiders call forth again
They don't like any of these creatures
Dehydrated laughs inside and crumbles like twilight
And then the master kiwi bird
And comatose spiders call forth
Now I have to cling to tainted whitewash dreams
In a world where nothing is what it seems
But now we see what is behind the scenes
Different patterns on every wall
They rotate through the seven webs
Glypto and Kanka incurable coppelturner
The more they consider the more they blow up sheep