Bewildered yet immortal: this vexing urge to kill
Three moons have past but still no chance for psychopaths to rule this thrill
Sensing through a target with stone-cold, poisoned hearts
This sister-snake, born at the stake and left to taint my very arms
(this sister-snake, born at the stake and left to taint my very arms)
...There was a boy that once upon a time
hath breathed these world of sulphur rain and sought to smack all scum divine
And love, a pale reflection, too thin to win or fight
Had no house nor rooms to live save in the walls of homicide...
A monstrous fable crawling to the minds of feeble hope
It´s you: the prey and nonetheless the murderer´s soul...
A ruin of Sin
With the innocent caged within
The tumour stirs
In the flesh of fever
Behold
What you see and what our Khaos enfolds
A Message in a Rifle!
Message In A Rifle!
Once enraged and on to slay
There´s no regret nor a new day
No smile shall bar my Way of Hate
But mine wheras the word is spread of
Message in a Rifle
...these war orchestra notes
in ghostly swifting tones
Enkindle one, two, three
Desire...
...Then came the light, celestial and burning
like wilder flourish of horrors still to come-
God whistling for the Wind, now reaps the storm he´d sown
His children fall from Paradise for roaming Babylon
alone...
Stalking beneath
The madness unleashed
Thick shadows cast
before this primrosed path
What suns and moon receal
A reddened snow conceals
And falls like souls from grace
In Cold Catharsis
Bewildered yet immortal: this vexing urge to kill
All moons enhanced but still no chance for psychopaths to rule this thrill
Sensing through a target with stone-cold, poisoned hearts
This sister-snake, born at the stake and left to taint my very arms
Unaware of sorrow, the Nemesis was lit
And burnt a lost tomorrow a grey and hopeless pit
Drift, Drift- and swiftly veil atrocities
Still ill natures will wake to roam
This fable´s worth: There IS no remorse!
Cry petrified and still and lo the human overkill-
... and greet the night of god.
Three moons have past but still no chance for psychopaths to rule this thrill
Sensing through a target with stone-cold, poisoned hearts
This sister-snake, born at the stake and left to taint my very arms
(this sister-snake, born at the stake and left to taint my very arms)
...There was a boy that once upon a time
hath breathed these world of sulphur rain and sought to smack all scum divine
And love, a pale reflection, too thin to win or fight
Had no house nor rooms to live save in the walls of homicide...
A monstrous fable crawling to the minds of feeble hope
It´s you: the prey and nonetheless the murderer´s soul...
A ruin of Sin
With the innocent caged within
The tumour stirs
In the flesh of fever
Behold
What you see and what our Khaos enfolds
A Message in a Rifle!
Message In A Rifle!
Once enraged and on to slay
There´s no regret nor a new day
No smile shall bar my Way of Hate
But mine wheras the word is spread of
Message in a Rifle
...these war orchestra notes
in ghostly swifting tones
Enkindle one, two, three
Desire...
...Then came the light, celestial and burning
like wilder flourish of horrors still to come-
God whistling for the Wind, now reaps the storm he´d sown
His children fall from Paradise for roaming Babylon
alone...
Stalking beneath
The madness unleashed
Thick shadows cast
before this primrosed path
What suns and moon receal
A reddened snow conceals
And falls like souls from grace
In Cold Catharsis
Bewildered yet immortal: this vexing urge to kill
All moons enhanced but still no chance for psychopaths to rule this thrill
Sensing through a target with stone-cold, poisoned hearts
This sister-snake, born at the stake and left to taint my very arms
Unaware of sorrow, the Nemesis was lit
And burnt a lost tomorrow a grey and hopeless pit
Drift, Drift- and swiftly veil atrocities
Still ill natures will wake to roam
This fable´s worth: There IS no remorse!
Cry petrified and still and lo the human overkill-
... and greet the night of god.