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One dream at a time until we run out dreams
for the vendors of idols are the onset of vandals
their worthless love has poisoned our hearts
as the world incinerates, for the very last time
our prophetic dreams entwine with déjà vu
resembling the last vestiges of substance
in this, the time of plague and pestilance
they embrace the harbingers of non-existence
and hope dissipates in every way
nos entregamos a los angeles de la muerte sagrada
before your last breath, may this be your comfort in the end
Crunch Pod
