Hindsight ’Tween the Hind Legs Lyrics

Queen of the carnival, so many tricks. Infernal ring master, keep the fuck traingle bent into circles. Snake burrows, slithers in holes spits venom so maliciously. My brain got to know those quite well, funny how that smell, it keeps coming back to the point where I can't tell, was that the way? or Have they become a fond compostite just blurring more and more with the passing of each day?