Search Division - Creature Beast

There is no cure
For the poison
That drips
Or for the words
That slip
From the tip
Of my
Black forked tongue

There is no back
Too broad
Or shoulder
Too wide
Between which I
Cannot slide
My greazy knives

I own you

Hazmianee

And when the time comes
When their backs are turned
That is when the betrayal
Will take its darkest form
And those who had once
Held trust and faith
Shall feel the
Tongue of the Worm
Upon their cheeks

I have a plan
To fool the watchers
A deceptive game of illusion
But I'll need you
My useful little tools
To take the fall for my
Smarmy collusion

Worm

Written by:
Jon Moncroix

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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