|
Desecrator, the way the world sees me |
|
To hold you near eternally |
|
Isolation in necrophilia |
|
Preserved in your crypt memorabilia |
|
Confessed why I'm so strange |
|
Molest I am deranged |
|
Possessed by your living soul |
|
Obsessed I cannot let go |
|
I crave the blank stare in your eyes |
|
The feeling of cold flesh |
|
Caress of the dead |
|
In the darkness I hear you so clearly |
|
Dark twisted thoughts on dead lips I feed |
|
My carcass of love dissected of stench, death |
|
Exhumed for my lust, entombed for my needs |
|
Confessed why I'm so strange |
|
Molest I am deranged |
|
Possessed by your living soul |
|
Obsessed I cannot let go |
|
I crave the blank stare in your eyes |
|
The feeling of cold flesh |
|
Caress of the dead |
|
Feeling, seeing, most appealing, bitting, grinding lifeless love |
|
Guilty pleasure, rigor treasure, hardening flesh fits like a glove |
|
How can a world be so cruel? |
|
To not see what you mean to me |
|
The time is here, my dear |
|
And I now must set you free |
|
I hope you can hear, I hope you can see me |
|
Your eyes of glass only just stare |
|
Desecrator the way the world saw me |
|
Inamorata they take you away |
|
Confessed why I'm so strange |
|
Molest I am deranged |
|
Possessed by your living soul |
|
Obsessed I cannot let go |
|
I crave the blank stare in your eyes |
|
The feeling of cold flesh |
|
Caress of the dead |
