A hint of excitement at the moment of her very last breath Mirrored as white roses floating in her glancing death Clad in clovers, wore a smile on her lips as the remains of air and blood exit through her rancid fingertips
The throat, it tightens. The grip makes her interest grow. Restless in rest now, with a thousand marks to show. Still taking envy in the life that she never chose And the last picture presented is the one of a bleeding rose
She was born in love with murder Love was what brought her further Love was what murdered her heart
And while the screams she presented were littered with grief Her final gasp was a pleasure ridden farewell Were there no white roses mirrored in her final stare?
She will never be seen as a bride She will never ride in white She will never get rid of her hate The dying bride finally knows her fate
It’s her dying wish to never have to share a kiss with those cold lips And with that pledge she blooms into colorless love While pale angels sing their cries
Beside her, a pool of her emptied heart Beneath her wounds, a crown of claws Inside her, a flushed out destiny A desire for suffering and ache
She will never be seen as a bride The dying whore will now rest in blightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
