| The dungeons are calling our names
|
| Inviting us to a masquerade in the flames
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| Once again lust will spread its wings
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| And carry us through the northern winds
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| Open the gates
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| To where it’s all supposed to end
|
| And let us all in… daimons, whores, witches and fiends
|
| Swoop through the frozen landscape
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| Of red memories almost forgotten
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| In rapid re-run:
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| A crimson river of rich wine let loose on tiles
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| Hideous sihouettes flicker in the candlelight
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| Shapes of evil, we are all born of dayfright
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| Ever since the banquet I’ve waited for her burn
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| Might she be here, can this be the night of her return?
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| There, right before my eyes she stands, my dark witch
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| Dressed in her funeral shroud, as black as pitch
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| Carved symbols in black, scars that never heal
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| All over my body, for a thousand years I bore her seal
|
| Come forth and lick the blood from my nasty wounds
|
| Still so young though she’s older than the moon
|
| Carved symbols in black, scars that never heal
|
| All over my body, for a thousand years I bore her seal
|
| She chased the moonlight out on the fields
|
| A dance most sombre and seductive
|
| She told me twisted stories from her past
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| And said: — «take this stake and end my life, but do it fast»
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| Blood-drenched feathers against what’s once been raped
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| Beautiful, innocent but still not too old
|
| For what it is shaped
|
| How can you die right before my eyes?
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| I always thought you were one of us
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| One of the immortals
|
| Open the gates
|
| To where it’s all supposed to end
|
| And let us all in…
|
| Open the gates
|
| To where we once were supposed to sin
|
| And let us all in… |