Testo Real Real Fiction Plane
I can feel their love
I hope that they are happy
I feed them with my blood
Today they may be rich
But tomorrow comes a flood
Real real real
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up
A mouth without a face
He fights his fights in our back garden
Inside we eat creatures
Our hearts begin to harden
A glowing hypnotist sells us a beauty we donât need
We give our days to nothing
But weâre not prepared to bleed