So subliminal my "visions" are dreams, Poets cross empty bottles with fiends, Praise the lord for what this message means, God don't listen to Gospel so it seems, He into Rap and rock supremes' A demons grasp held onto these cold wings, Flew me away and took my strings, A place we go where no churchgoer sings, Satan here to collect his things
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So subliminal my "visions" are dreams,
Poets cross empty bottles with fiends,
Praise the lord for what this message means,
God don't listen to Gospel so it seems,
He into Rap and rock supremes'
A demons grasp held onto these cold wings,
Flew me away and took my strings,
A place we go where no churchgoer sings,
Satan here to collect his things