Burn, black sea, burn
Caspians rove over Altais
Wie Schultheiss uberseht
Zell im See und hat Seesterne getraegt
Turkic exports shopped to custom sizes
Lie rotting in my lungs
Burn, black sea, burn
My genitals are enflamed
With Hindenburg lusts and
Numbing passions, engulfed
In the maternal flail of my hand
Hodie mihi, cras tibi
Les petits morts vous me donnez
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