Thorns grip the wrists and hands of prayer. The congregation, the charlatan procession. A harlots lips feed from the grail of crimson. The lull of bedlam, the constant perdition. Come undone. Become absolution. Come decimation. Become and end foretold.
Forgo the foreboding consciousness, the vacant illusion of self awareness. Forgo the pleasures of love, the indented path of modern man. Denounce the embrace of interaction, the denouement of introverted seclusion.
Thorns grip the wrists and hands of prayer. The congregation, the charlatan procession. A harlots lips feed from the grail of crimson. The lull of bedlam, the constant perdition. Come undone. Become absolution. Come decimation. Become and end foretold.
Wearing thin is my mournful clutch. A moment of calm washes over me. I am not where I’ve been nor who I was. Spending my life in sin and misery.
Come undone. Become no one.
Wearing thin is my mournful clutch. A moment of calm washes over me. I am not where I’ve been nor who I was. Spending my life in sin and misery.
Fall on me, black of night. Set me free, unwavering chaos. Detest me, cosmic soul. Stay with me, restless splendor. Speak to me, constant perdition. Become me, Constant perdition.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
