| Wash away the blood with holy water
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| Sprinkle the bodies of enemies with damp foliage
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| Haven't had a dream in a long time
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| One on one with darkness
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| With her standing by the water with a tightened noose
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| They seriously all think they know us
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| But our dogs will break at the command of the face
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| This is their hour of judgment, alas, Christ did not save
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| Those smell the taste of their flesh as if for the first time
|
| The evil appearance of Belial is here in the title role
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| That pale drowned man, alas, I do not know pain
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| I'll leave a scorched field
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| Demons drag you into darkness
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| And you know we share with them
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| Rotting dead geek
|
| Darkness dug my grave
|
| Young Vikirnes ablaze the temple
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| This is a sign
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| Throw in the swamp and leave us here
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| In thick mud where the net does not catch
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| I'm wearing a new Pigalle, a schmal is twisted in a sheet
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| Sadness reigned in my red eyes
|
| Between the black branches and the flow of days
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| The wind carries the smoke of the burnt churches
|
| Psilocybin led me through the woods
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| Through the dense trees, to the places of black masses
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| Getting lost in textures, under drug potion
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| Expanded mind saw death figure
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| The birds sang to me with a farewell orchestra
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| Crying urged to go to a dead place
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| Where roots weave a grave wreath
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| They know exactly how lonely I am
|
| The last call I dial I plug
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| Last sip of codeine moisture
|
| I'm being dragged down home to hell
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| Well deserved prize after the dead garden |