Из альбома: Put On Your Rosy Red Glasses

the soiled ground for the sacrifice

dispelled. crippling. faulty. holyland.


i am your martyr, your stigmata

the tears turn to blood beneath my eyes.

my body listens... as you whisper

my fingers bend... as im nailed to your cross.

the splinters etch... hearts in my back

i denounce this crucifixtion, i demand another sacrifice.

a cast shadow over this narrow hill

pulling my fingers from these nails

there will be no use for a second comming

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