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In the gallery of lost hopes |
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We stand as mortal shells |
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In this futile passion |
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Let the whorish smile seduce you |
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In this sickness we all carry |
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Let the insects crawl you through |
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On this sweet and sickly day |
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My soiled hands dig in the mould |
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Where all beauty lies rotting |
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In the gallery of lost hopes |
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You pass between my memories |
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As morality dies in my heart |
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Let the whorish smile seduce you |
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On this sweet and sickly day |
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White sheets drenched |
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With bodily fluids that dry on my skin |
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Experience the infection |
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I bring I cling to you in fever and lay myself into your sea |
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And let the nausea wash through me |
