The Gut from 3 by Lavatory Service

Seeing through the lines.
Seeking down the fires.
Swimming from the Wales.
Learning through production and fails.
Seeing with my eyes,
Looking for the ties.
Seeing down the veils,
Looking through corrections and hails.

Seeing nothing much.
Can it be the judge? 
All the cold is foam,
Forming big irresistible wall.
Try to circulate 
And matriculate/particulate
What is down there now.
Looking for a piece of my dial.

Good night.
Good night.
Good night.
Good night.

Flames are getting hired,
You are like the dire,
Facing nothing much,
Having troubles farming this batch.
Nothing here is small.
Waking up with roam.
Flying too much down, 
Think that there something yet to be found.

Flying down the veils,
Swimming through the Wales.
Seeing nothing much.
All that I can give can be such
Morality and some mortality.
Spare the life of kings,
Gut your shoulder, come with your bees.

When I'm awake I feel the
Damage of my dreams and you are the host.
And so I wait for my kidneys to be spared 
And I wait the most. 
Getting deeper, womb is dark.
Following the teaches of so-called Dark.
Nothing is there, but I may hope.
I think I'm finding children at the final fucking deepest spot of the womb.

Good night.
Good night.
Good night.
Good night.
Good night.
Good night.
Good night.
Good night.

What about the dreams?
Nothing can be idled by you until you're sure you're the right one to do it.
Fuck this conception.
Fuck it.

• Progressive rock
• Rock
• experimental
• fusion rock
• psychedelic rock
• stoner metal
• Baku