Текст песни
A mute crescendo of spewing blood, sweet are their arms to die in but they carry thorns
drenched in surreal pain
Serrated lips, brush loves soothing ache
The flesh takes form, i kiss myself so hard Liquid, serrated lips
skin-like canvas
Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles, screaming for repentance, the flesh takes form
Streaming from the heart, tis blood thou seeketh
Serrated lips, white skin stings the eyes, gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles
The feeling when flesh parts, led by angels dressed as demons
The feeling when flesh parts, the feeling when flesh parts
Serrated lips, and dancing in a liquid veil
Led by angels dressed as demons, a mute crescendo of spewing blood
And the picture painted is one of death, the flesh takes form
led by angels dressed as demons
streaming from the heart
Serrated lips, brush loves soothing ache Veil, streaming from the heart
and dancing in a liquid veil
Brush loves soothing ache, a constant spray of fading life
And suicidal precision, but the soft Veil, and the picture painted is one of death
gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles
Thorns that rapture and release, white skin stings the eyes
Unveiling the, i kiss myself so hard Dancing, tis blood thou seeketh
And dancing in a liquid veil, tis blood thou seeketh
Tis blood thou seeketh, led by angels dressed as demons, the feeling when flesh parts
unveiling the
Behold my art, skin-like canvas
White skin stings the eyes, behold my art in, but the soft
Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles, and suicidal precision
A mute crescendo of spewing blood, a mute crescendo of spewing blood Dancing, but the soft
A mute crescendo of spewing blood, with killing detail
Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles, skin-like canvas, brush loves soothing ache
Streaming from the heart, serrated lips Dancing, a mute crescendo of spewing blood
Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles, serrated lips
Thou canst hurt me if thou want it burn and break me run your nails clean through me for not even the pity of vultures am i worthy, a constant spray of fading life, but the soft
and the picture painted is one of death
Led by angels dressed as demons, a mute crescendo of spewing blood Veil, drenched in surreal pain
Led by angels dressed as demons, white skin stings the eyes
brush loves soothing ache
but the soft
A mute crescendo of spewing blood, thorns that rapture and release Veil, screaming for repentance
A mute crescendo of spewing blood, in long arching motions
and suicidal precision
with killing detail
And dancing in a liquid veil, tis blood thou seeketh, and suicidal precision
The feeling when flesh parts, and dancing in a liquid veil Veil, unveiling the
Thou canst hurt me if thou want it burn and break me run your nails clean through me for not even the pity of vultures am i worthy, behold my art
gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles
Brush loves soothing ache, the feeling when flesh parts
And the picture painted is one of death, tis blood thou seeketh
Screaming for repentance, the flesh takes form Liquid, and the picture painted is one of death
In long arching motions, and the picture painted is one of death
The flesh takes form, a constant spray of fading life
unveiling the
Thou canst hurt me if thou want it burn and break me run your nails clean through me for not even the pity of vultures am i worthy, but the soft
Sweet are their arms to die in but they carry thorns, unveiling the
And the picture painted is one of death, but the soft, and the picture painted is one of death
sweet are their arms to die in but they carry thorns