[00:00.00]bitter aftertaste of every exploitation chokes me like a mouthful of spiders, crawling in or out i don't know but i kneel to the gods of nausea in moments of reflection upon what i stole from a fifteen year old girl and not even a thousand seasons of rain could wash my leprosy from her body.

bitter aftertaste of every exploitation chokes me like a mouthful of spiders, crawling in or out i don't know but i kneel to the gods of nausea in moments of reflection upon what i stole from a fifteen year old girl and not even a thousand seasons of rain could wash my leprosy from her body.