The Berserker's Field of Whores

The Berserker's Field of Whores Lyrics

Song	The Berserker's Field of Whores
Artist	Destroy Destroy Destroy
Album	Battle Sluts
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : Kemp, Scott
	The smell of murder runs down your filthy thighs
	A martyr's not a martyr if he doesn't fucking die
	You can't go slow with it
	Your ribs will show with it
	Your skin will rip off leaving you exposed
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	His campaign of terror
	On fetal souls ungrown
	The seed of mortal wives
	To keep for his own
	Slumber is the hunger for the whores he has sown
	In fields of wretched women who have sold him their souls
	You can't grow with them
	They're just thrown
	Into a pile that will rot and implode
	I am the harvester of woe
	I live beneath this tyrants throne
	I seek for that which he throws
	To have for my own
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	I'll take what is thrown from his field of whores
	His campaign of terror
	On fetal souls ungrown
	The seed of mortal wives
	To keep for his own
	The bezerker in his docile mode

	zuo qu : Kemp, Scott
	The smell of murder runs down your filthy thighs
	A martyr' s not a martyr if he doesn' t fucking die
	You can' t go slow with it
	Your ribs will show with it
	Your skin will rip off leaving you exposed
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	His campaign of terror
	On fetal souls ungrown
	The seed of mortal wives
	To keep for his own
	Slumber is the hunger for the whores he has sown
	In fields of wretched women who have sold him their souls
	You can' t grow with them
	They' re just thrown
	Into a pile that will rot and implode
	I am the harvester of woe
	I live beneath this tyrants throne
	I seek for that which he throws
	To have for my own
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	I' ll take what is thrown from his field of whores
	His campaign of terror
	On fetal souls ungrown
	The seed of mortal wives
	To keep for his own
	The bezerker in his docile mode

	zuò qǔ : Kemp, Scott
	The smell of murder runs down your filthy thighs
	A martyr' s not a martyr if he doesn' t fucking die
	You can' t go slow with it
	Your ribs will show with it
	Your skin will rip off leaving you exposed
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	His campaign of terror
	On fetal souls ungrown
	The seed of mortal wives
	To keep for his own
	Slumber is the hunger for the whores he has sown
	In fields of wretched women who have sold him their souls
	You can' t grow with them
	They' re just thrown
	Into a pile that will rot and implode
	I am the harvester of woe
	I live beneath this tyrants throne
	I seek for that which he throws
	To have for my own
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	The bezerker in his docile mode
	I' ll take what is thrown from his field of whores
	His campaign of terror
	On fetal souls ungrown
	The seed of mortal wives
	To keep for his own
	The bezerker in his docile mode

The Berserker's Field of Whores Lyrics

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