curse be the air in, in out, out your lineage

may your footsteps multiply your burden

you shall marry the bride, but others defile her side

in all bloodline, legacy shall be spat, not spake

as your lungs turn to dry leather

may your nerves always blister, may your blood turn to bile

and the devil would not take you out of disgust

as sickness would walk with you every day

let madness, sickness be your compassion

your bones shall not rest in the soil, nor your carcass

let every drop of your blood be haunted by plagues

your children shall mock you with open sores

the heavens would close their ears towards -

the underworld shall speak evil of you

may smiles, breath always abandon you

for your judgmental scripture reads

the liar - the coward - the traitor

let your loved one taste the poison of your presence

as your name would be whispered with rot

even the bloodline has crumbled - O Acumea

let the worms reject your flesh, milking mucus

your bloodline shall be dust from the room

as your name would bore wounds in people's mouths

for all-night activities, the star blinds the flesh

may the air recoil at every touch

all days numbered by the pattern of 1945

curse be the air in, in out, out your lineage

may your footsteps multiply your burden

you shall marry the bride, but others defile her side

in all bloodline, legacy shall be spat, not spake

as your lungs turn to dry leather

may your nerves always blister, may your blood turn to bile

and the devil would not take you out of disgust

as sickness would walk with you every day

let madness, sickness be your compassion

your bones shall not rest in the soil, nor your carcass

let every drop of your blood be haunted by plagues

your children shall mock you with open sores

the heavens would close their ears towards -

the underworld shall speak evil of you

may smiles, breath always abandon you

for your judgmental scripture reads

the liar - the coward - the traitor

let your loved one taste the poison of your presence

as your name would be whispered with rot

even the bloodline has crumbled - O Acumea

let the worms reject your flesh, milking mucus

your bloodline shall be dust from the room

as your name would bore wounds in people's mouths

for all-night activities, the star blinds the flesh

may the air recoil at every touch

all days numbered by the pattern of 1945