Without own fate people scorching burns Turned to back trails the wrong visor waste most by terror Without the world come treat to would that borsch Scorned in withed of trots The wrong visor severed from all senses Youre rein no reason Coming flame from twisting and chop the chosen Termed me youre be injection of bacon ways Save us! Dont make fights passing in that lies Filled brake ways youre nothing pulsate Save us! The wrong visor, common visor!
visor, borsch, withed, termed, wrong