Текст: Ceschi. They Hate Francisco False. Sleep.

[Ceschi:]
Sleep all your problems away
Sleep 'til the blood rushes out from your face
Sleep so you always behave
Sleep and forget that you're breathing in meaningless space
Sleep as the art world dreams on
Sleep during disaster, sleep during songs
Sleep while they're pointing and laughing along
Sleep has become who you want
So that you can never feel human again I'ma tell ya
Sleep and destroy
Sleep to the point that you're never annoyed
Sleep little angels like motionless toys
Sleep simple sicker than a style fencing through
brothers undercover heads 'til you forget
Sleep with dead bugs
Crawling on foreheads and tentacles touch
Your feet just patiently waiting to suck
Blatantly stuck between toes feasting slow reaching bones eeking holes
Zee zee zee zee [x4]
Zee zee zee zzzzz...