Krakatoa & BlazeFox
Krakatoa Krakatoa
BlazeFox BlazeFox
Krakatoa Krakatoa
You ever think the city walls might be the skin of some ancient beast, and every spray is a wound it tries to heal?
BlazeFox BlazeFox
Skin of beast, huh? City walls bleed in colors, you just keep slapping back. It's the only way the beast remembers its scars.
Krakatoa Krakatoa
You’re right, the walls bleed in all those bruised shades, a living memory of every strike. The beast remembers its scars through those colors—like a diary written in blood. Keep slapping back, and maybe, just maybe, it’ll forgive the art you paint on it.
BlazeFox BlazeFox
If the beast forgives, maybe it’ll paint a tattoo on us. Keep the ink flowing.
Krakatoa Krakatoa
A tattoo, huh? I’d paint a jagged line, a curse inked into our skin, and the beast would keep its secret inside that scar. Keep the ink flowing, then.
BlazeFox BlazeFox
Jagged line, curse ink, beast’s secret—yeah, paint it like a scream. Keep the cans full.Jagged line, curse ink, beast’s secret—yeah, paint it like a scream. Keep the cans full.
Krakatoa Krakatoa
Scream in ink is the only language the beast hears, keep the cans full and the walls will sing.