M/S Salmonella [Depressive Black Metal, Post-Punk]
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The hangover remains since yesterday, and so does my vomit on the toilet's wall I wander around like a zombie in the monotony All the time, I meet new faces, which bothers me The bandage reeks of scar-liquid and pus, but I'm unable to stop smelling on it continually The wind is blowing cold, and I feel like jumping down amongst the crushed ice-cubes I've sent you a postcard that says "Farewell".
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