|
Inevitably it's starting to bleed |
|
And couldn't be stopped, that's justice |
|
Incredible luck, to lift and be struck |
|
What curious things |
|
A moment to think before we will sing |
|
The beauties aligned so sweetly |
|
And don't be afraid, don't be afraid |
|
Don't be afraid |
|
Does this look like that? |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
How cruel you get |
|
I've started again |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
To miss your hands |
|
What carnage you've left |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
And you were dead |
|
Remember your flesh |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
To see us break |
|
Our souls are unrest |
|
What kind of pride is this? Dry your, dry your eyes |
|
They'll salt his wounds |
|
If burning the flesh means finding the one |
|
Does this look like that? |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
How cruel you get |
|
I've started again |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
To miss your hands |
|
What carnage you've left |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
And you were dead |
|
Remember your flesh |
|
(My bumpkin boy) |
|
To see us break |
|
Flesh is heretic, my body is a witch |
|
I am burning it |
|
Flesh is heretic, my body is a witch |
|
I am burning it |
|
Flesh is heretic, my body is a witch |
|
I am burning it |
|
Flesh is heretic, my body is a witch |
|
I am burning it |
|
Flesh is heretic, my body is a witch |
|
I am burning it |
|
Flesh is heretic, my body is a witch |
|
I am burning it |
|
My bumpkin boy |
|
My bumpkin boy |