We don't have sex Celestial dragons friends Frigid and astral our eternal laugh Celestial dragons friends Maybe it's rotten The secret of the submission of the person In the crowd I didn't know Eat up yourself to vomit it up after As worms of death the moments are creeping Angst that turns into dropout and freedom Adherence that never gives off Though it's already mature Maybe it's rotten Sickness of the dead storm got froze Sickness of the ice storm got me strong