It might be the crawling fate of a world lost, burning and freezing, starving and drowning.
The blood on the sidewalk and charade in our gilded halls.
The cruelty of our protectors or the greed of our debtors.
Or, maybe, it’s the winter.
Maybe
It might be the crawling fate of a world lost, burning and freezing, starving and drowning.
The blood on the sidewalk and charade in our gilded halls.
The cruelty of our protectors or the greed of our debtors.
Or, maybe, it’s the winter.
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