Girlish legs are intertwined, a halo is above his head,
|
Blood and love thickens
|
The heroines of his swinging to the beat around the room in a hot haze
|
He's not a saint no, he's a screw, screw
|
Outta bandage
|
DJ scratching records somewhere in the corner this is afterparty
|
Here dresses melt, curtains burn
|
Girls are moaning, the beds are busy, the ashes are flying up (Up!)
|
The walls draw patterns on the fabric
|
On the floor delirious in a white shroud
|
Demons are hiding in the corners
|
He won't find them until the sun goes down
|
No fear
|
He is the same demon
|
Instills gold in the souls of people
|
And the smell of incense
|
And thousands of people follow him
|
Faithful as dogs
|
With trunks at the temple
|
Sheep go to the precipice
|
Are you a rock star
|
You want to burn alive
|
But admit that you don't care about those who follow you
|
Apocalypse is here
|
Apocalypse is already behind you
|
He burned, and in his flame all
|
A billion for one
|
Like moths, at the behest of his hand, we flew into the light
|
And ran into bayonets
|
The last demon makes faces and spit
|
Apocalypse is already behind you
|
Light
|
Lights
|
Cities go out one by one
|
Ray
|
Earth
|
The son of heaven will descend into hell itself. You are the only one
|
Can you look in the eyes
|
To those you meet there
|
And you will walk through the flames
|
The flags will be lowered
|
Catholics and Orthodox
|
blinded by your
|
The art of hiding
|
In the hearts of people
|
And there to steal the most important thing
|
The crater is awakening
|
Sweat flows down the forehead, smoke cuts the eyes
|
And we get up from our knees and follow him
|
Apocalypse is here
|
Apocalypse is already behind you
|
It burned, and in its flame all a billion burned in one
|
Like moths, at the behest of his hand, we flew into the light
|
And ran into bayonets
|
The last demon makes faces and spit
|
The apocalypse is already behind you... |