| Desecrator, the way the world sees me
|
| To hold you near eternally
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| Isolation in necrophilia
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| Preserved in your crypt memorabilia
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| Confessed why I’m so strange
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| Molest I am deranged
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| Possessed by your living soul
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| Obsessed I cannot let go
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| I crave the blank stare in your eyes
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| The feeling of cold flesh
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| Caress of the dead
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| In the darkness I hear you so clearly
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| Dark twisted thoughts on dead lips I feed
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| My carcass of love dissected of stench, death
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| Exhumed for my lust, entombed for my needs
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| Confessed why I’m so strange
|
| Molest I am deranged
|
| Possessed by your living soul
|
| Obsessed I cannot let go
|
| I crave the blank stare in your eyes
|
| The feeling of cold flesh
|
| Caress of the dead
|
| Feeling, seeing, most appealing, bitting, grinding lifeless love
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| Guilty pleasure, rigor treasure, hardening flesh fits like a glove
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| How can a world be so cruel?
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| To not see what you mean to me
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| The time is here, my dear
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| And I now must set you free
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| I hope you can hear, I hope you can see me
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| Your eyes of glass only just stare
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| Desecrator the way the world saw me
|
| Inamorata they take you away
|
| Confessed why I’m so strange
|
| Molest I am deranged
|
| Possessed by your living soul
|
| Obsessed I cannot let go
|
| I crave the blank stare in your eyes
|
| The feeling of cold flesh
|
| Caress of the dead |