Post by lien587 on Aug 8, 2015 1:34:14 GMT
They may offer you fortune, and fame,
Love, and money, and instant acclaim,
But whatever they offer you,
Don't feed the plants.
Hold your hat and hang on to your soul:
Something's coming to eat the world whole.
If we fight it we've still got a chance,
But whatever they offer you,
Though they're slopping the trough for you,
Please, whatever they offer you,
Don't feed the plants.
The office lay in ruins on top of and beneath you. Slimy feelers writhe all around you, searching for food. For blood.
The rotten miasma of death and sulfur surrounds you and chokes the fresh air from your lungs.
The roots overcome you, they rip holes into your flesh, and every strike burns a fire through your soul.
You pray for one miracle.
Death.
Love, and money, and instant acclaim,
But whatever they offer you,
Don't feed the plants.
Hold your hat and hang on to your soul:
Something's coming to eat the world whole.
If we fight it we've still got a chance,
But whatever they offer you,
Though they're slopping the trough for you,
Please, whatever they offer you,
Don't feed the plants.
The office lay in ruins on top of and beneath you. Slimy feelers writhe all around you, searching for food. For blood.
The rotten miasma of death and sulfur surrounds you and chokes the fresh air from your lungs.
The roots overcome you, they rip holes into your flesh, and every strike burns a fire through your soul.
You pray for one miracle.
Death.
