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The sick twisted visions |
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Of horrid transitions |
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To the ones who raise witches |
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Or slice open the rest |
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The prophecies stand still |
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As the children turn ill |
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Upon the dark night |
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The dead's blood will rest |
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The wind in the trees |
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A rotted stench in the breeze |
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You pray to thee |
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And the answer is me |
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It tortures for thrills |
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It enters with chills |
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You're clinging for life |
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Then your blood spills |
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My face is becoming so clear |
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Now your skin's burning from |
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Constriction of fear |
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Into the night |
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I'm composing a spree |
|
I enter your soul |
|
When clocks strike 3:33 |
|
I raise up from the dead |
|
I begin to pull |
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Down into your bed |
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As you scream for life |
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That you never had |
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I am in you now |
|
I am all you have |
|
I am in you |
|
And there's nothing you can do now |
|
It tortures for thrills |
|
It enters with chills |
|
You're clinging for life |
|
Then your blood spills |
|
I feel the wind has spoken to me |
|
And this night is calling for thee |
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Into the depths I yearn for you |
|
A cross waved by burning through |
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You can feel me me |
|
I can hear you |
|
You can't touch me |
|
I will torture you |
|
I am in you |
|
And there's nothing you can do now |
|
Reaching our for me |
|
You cry for sympathy |
|
Holy water rains down on you |
|
Your blood is tossed and strewed |
