Riding on the back of the winged reaper At night losing track of false time Devouring the souls of the pitiful That rummage through the bones of our waste A cry of delight and great wonder At the bleeding wounds of the fallen The time of great suffering upon us Has filled me with lusts of carnal design
Ah! what beauty To make love to the Autumn moon...
Gripping my cloak tight in my fist Enveloping the moon in red mist In every home hides a victim In every dark street lies potential I grow in the shadows as an ogre Stripping fresh flesh from their bones Cock throbbing hard with consumption Til light calls me back to my earthen throne
Ah! What glory To be born under an Autumn moon...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
