| Hear the raven calling the final hour has struck
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| The blackclothed bride facing destiny without fear
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| Far at last she is to begin her own requiem
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| The utter ceremony of the last ones
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| Forever trapped in the grey mist of misery
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| Fragmenst of the past flashing before her eyes
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| As she enters the century gates
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| The old candles are burning in the vault
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| The smell of dying flowers and rotten flesh
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| Surrounds her has she finds her way among the coffins
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| In the amber light of the candlelight
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| She sees the silhoutte of the altar of a thousand roses
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| Fallen beyond all grace deeper and deeper
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| The sound of her own blood dripping
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| Like sacred tears from a bleeding rose
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| An amorous requiem where she cries her sacred tears
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| Until she reaches the other side
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| Caressed by the morning wind as it gently touches
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| And undresses her shivering body
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| With gloomy eyes she invokes the other side
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| And wraps her existence in oblivion
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| The wine in her veins has become sour
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| But still it hurts for her to drain her heart
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| And sacrifise the most sacred tears of them all
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| A scream of pain and pleasure
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| Makes her body turn into colvulsions
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| As the cold steel of the blade cuts deep into her flesh
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| Fallen beyond all grace…
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| Hear the raven calling, the final hour has struck
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| For on the altar of a thousand roses
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| Lies the dying bride
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| Awaiting the demons arrival
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| In the sign of the pentagram
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| Invoking the deamons to rise
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| And take her to the other side
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| As the night falls the ritual ends
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| Her heart is now empty she is almost asleep
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| Her sacred tears are forever lost
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| The wind has stopped mourning
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| And the raven is gone
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| Her soul is no longer condemned
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| To everlasting pain
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| Fallen beyond all grace…
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| In the amber light of the candlelight
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| The ground is turning red
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| Her naked body now lies pale on the altar
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| And as she closes her eyes
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| She sighs and falls asleep |