Lyrics:
This is fucking torture to me, it's fucking torture
Nefarious, nefarious
It's enough to have to meet ya
Nefarious, nefarious
And there's nothing that
Blinded by fame and luxurious days
Blinded by stardom and nefarious ways
Blinded by attention and all this pretension
A true artist is humble in his
This is fucking torture to me, it's fucking torture
Nefarious, nefarious
It's enough to have to meet ya
Nefarious, nefarious
And there's nothing that
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
Your next favourite artist (Artist , Artist , Artist)
You're my favourite artist (Artist)
Age Of Nefarious
When the moon shines down upon us
How long will it take to get to mars
Will peace still guide the planets
And will love still be
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
The strokes seem effortless at convincing you to lean towards nefarious
The strokes seem
The strokes seem effortless at convincing you to lean
Ominous nefarious completely insane
Doctor Butcher and his dungeon of death
Unorthodox therapies performed on the brain
Prolific practitioner
Good artists copy great artists steal
introduced the oceans to the earth
Well whoever made the snowflakes
Made shadows where doubts lurk
I suspect an artist is at work
I know when an artist
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