| Your womb always bled the sweetest of blood
|
| Let me taste it, let me smell your inner lust
|
| Leaving bloody marks of my dried out lips
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| All around your vagina, down on your hips
|
| I may be old
|
| But still I breathe
|
| Therefore I am
|
| I may be old
|
| But still I move
|
| And lead this dance
|
| I smeared your dirty wings with an ancient oil
|
| Made out of serpents, bats and soil
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| Take your broken wings and try to fly again
|
| Down into the abyss, through the eternal flames
|
| Behold the beautiful landscape below
|
| Watch it with respect and see what it has to show
|
| This is where the future meets the past
|
| Where the time stands still and the first becomes the last
|
| I took a piece of your heart
|
| I took a piss on your soul
|
| I spit on your feeble church
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| I disgraced your holy whore
|
| I want to see the daughters of the moon
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| Dance on the blood-red tide
|
| Wearing nothing but their funeral dress
|
| So innocent, with nothing to hide
|
| I may be old
|
| But still I breathe
|
| Therefore I am
|
| I may be old
|
| But still I move
|
| And lead this dance |