Sanoja: Tiamat. Dust If Our Fare.

there is a time when some of us are healedthere is a time you`re clean and undersealedthere is a time it almost looks like funthere is a time for the bullet of a gun
no one here drinks waternone of us are saneif you pretend you`re my daughterwe do it again and againno one here is praying`cause no one here is godand every word we are sayingmight as well be put in blood
there is a time when worms revel in methere is a time for a pigfaced realitythere is a time and it`s usually the afternoonthere is a time and i hope it will be damn soon