It's the sadist teeth in me, the fake ones I use to bite my own tongue and let the blood fill until it's ready to leak. Outfine every pair of parched fucking lips and watch as they drink as I spit. I sold it straight from the bottle because the glass is thick enough when death holds a quiet gold and simple tax gets lost in the dust. It's replaced by roaring murders and the decimate fucks. It's the sadist teeth in me, with a drive to be there for the hanging. It's the sadist teeth in me, rendered immobile under all the fresh wide graves
I've crept through your windows and I watched the cobwebs collect. I've looked on as your gardens flood and cement in your driveway cracked. It's the sadist teeth in me and honesty from the shit like us is spoken like library screams. Still stacked on silent complete
It's the sadist teeth in me. It's the sadist in me. All abound, it's the sadist in me
