| Glowing eyes, staring eyes
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| Manifest of evil presence
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| With entities swept in disease and decay
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| A fall from paradise beyond redemption
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| He who speaks of nightly treasures
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| He who wraps the serpent around my neck
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| He who pours poisonous wine in my chalice
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| He who lets me serve and slip away
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| …And so I will take shelter
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| In the absence of the light
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| Hiding like a masked miniature in the dark
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| A revenant without relief it seems
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| For the art of becoming a progeny
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| And to be raised in such curse
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| Infesting the dead in herds
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| His grandeur of guidance in roundtrips obscure
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| He who immerse my hands in sullen thrills
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| His pat on which domination linger
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| He who dares to prove the sanity of mine
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| He who speaks of nightly treasures
|
| He who lets me serve and slip away
|
| Black unearthly void creatures crawling
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| Forbidden forgotten fairly underrated
|
| Bastards in the shape of angels holding my hands
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| Passing me wath is left of the wine |