IN CONVERSATION: Will Ramos of Lorna Shore
Swallowed by the womb of death.
Swallowed by the womb of death.
Do you wanna feel what I felt?
She sits up high, surrounded by the sun.
Lights are off and all the exits are closed, he’s become the thing he fears the most.
The time lays waste to ashes, my soul lays waste the broken mind.
I have to return some video tapes.
This medicine has everyone dancing.
Where do we draw the line between helpful and hurtful?
In death, I shall remain with my bastard blood.