Born on a dark and lonely day Shivering screams of agony Wracked by self-inflicted ache Slicked with sick tears Effluvia of a broken soul Coalesce into humid hatred Lightning of rememberance sharpens The razor's edge, fine and beautiful
On some dark moon, the rush will come In what form I know not Maybe rope, maybe fire, maybe powder and flint Or as simple pounding flesh But I will come And you will speak my name
I am the unspeakable I am the unknown I am the stapled mouth I am the thing which cannot be... yet
I am the unspeakable I am the dead thing I am the breath which leaves you And I am the long years waiting
Thread of the pulse, sand on the tongue Quaking with desire Hatred burns the veins I feed upon your fear Nestled in the cardiac quarter This undying snake of fury Corruption twists to decay Beauty turns to black
On some black sun, the dam will burst And I will become Formed of wire, or of steel, or of nails that peel Instead of crucify But I will come And you will speak my name
I am the unspeakable I am the unknown I am the stapled mouth I am the thing which cannot be... yet
I am the unspeakable I am the red death I am the long years waiting And I am your dying breath
When will it end? For if I knew... When will it end? Because for you...
I am the unspeakable I am the unknown I am the stapled mouth I am the thing which cannot be... yet
I am the unspeakable I am the dead thing I am the breath which leaves you And I am the long years waiting
I am the unspeakable I am rusted rage I am blood on the wall I am the cold edge of the bladeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
