Waste Of Flesh Lyrics & Chords By Idlehands

An ounce of pride it suits us all. We come in fear, yet we stand tall. Rash of hate. Incompetence, is what you call proportions. Slaughter the paths in me like your Sunday Morning...read more

Such a sweet succulent neck. Oh how nice it looks when my blade pierces and cuts. Your blood spills on the floor, my cock at attention. I'm doing the world a favor by killing...read more