With the tide for His axe
And the wind His cleaver
Death shall ride rife,
A heathen set to devour.
The light will smother
And eight minutes further
So shall We-
Poofing off the 360-degree.
And the wind His cleaver
Death shall ride rife,
A heathen set to devour.
The light will smother
And eight minutes further
So shall We-
Poofing off the 360-degree.
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