[sad chɨll] sewerperson - CHAPTER3_FEED THE LAKE

🎯 Загружено автоматически через бота: 🚫 Оригинал видео: 📺 Данное видео принадлежит каналу «sad chɨll» (@UniversalChill). Оно представлено в нашем сообществе исключительно в информационных, научных, образовательных или культурных целях. Наше сообщество не утверждает никаких прав на данное видео. Пожалуйста, поддержите автора, посетив его оригинальный канал. ✉️ Если у вас есть претензии к авторским правам на данное видео, пожалуйста, свяжитесь с нами по почте support@, и мы немедленно удалим его. 📃 Оригинальное описание: Produced by YUNNY GOLDZ Support sewerperson ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sad Chill: Spotify Playlist!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lyrics: there is no such thing as a safe zone here, only a well disguised one. 5 days into my adventures I’d stumbled upon a charmingly quant fishing town located off stream of Corahb’eiy, one of 4 main lake bodies of the western otherlands. As harmless as the local folk and fauna may be, they ultimately serve as perfect distraction to the true danger of this maritime hamlet. The lake itself. His paddle board Is petrified Trapped within the sand belt of Corahb’eiy This fishing town Lost 20 lives The waters lap and muffle out their mothers cries The scum is pushed to away As the rescues left the bay in search Of some young bedevilled face The verdicts never change I fear Its nothing u had caused The scars The same In turn His fate Is changed damned To forever dwell in the lake His kin Is shamed By you And me The weakest die in breaking walls we had raised to remain His paddle board Is petrified Trapped within the sand belt of Corahb’eiy This fishing town Lost 20 lives The waters lap and muffle out their mothers cries And at certain points Its suicide To press the envelope u know has anthrax inside With could’ve dones U never win When every fucking day is spent relearning them I lost another animal last night Treading water in that creek Swept away into its bite And I wonder if ill ever see it die Ill keep waving off this wind Ill keep beating back its brine I At lakeside Ill keep one eye on this shore Ill keep one eye on our land While I venture in its depths, I Must say I never learned to hold my breath But ive learned to hold my own And ill fight until I hold its head His paddle board Is petrified Trapped within the sand belt of Corahb’eiy This fishing town Lost 20 lives The waters lap and muffle out their mothers cries And at certain points Its suicide To press the envelope u know has anthrax inside With could’ve dones U never win When every fucking day is spent relearning them