BISHOP OF HEXEN
The Surreal Touch Between Steel & Flesh
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- BISHOP OF HEXEN
- Lure My Spelled Emotions
Текст песни BISHOP OF HEXEN - Lure My Spelled Emotions
Все тексты BISHOP OF HEXEN
"As the streaks of fog & dust fade
A sight of grey ashes & soft limbs cut
The cold steel weapon, bleeding the emotion
Is the weight of pain on an old heart"
Sour blood streams freshly from my caged soul
The strange apathy of the sky-shameless to weep
How was I betrayed-my faith was so pure
The hate I resent-stalking blasphemy may be the cure
Источник https://alllyr.ru/song27893
From falling steep-a broken man in guilt
To become fulfilled-from the vows to the dark needs
The winter strips the human shell from it's virginity
The winter grows & nourishes towards a dark-melancholy
The castle of trust & faith crumbles, and creates the path
The path on which will lead him from the relic of the past
Oh, god of harmony & filth
Blister, bitterness they ask
The witches have done their task
To seize an emotion and then, to cage it in your palm
Vexatiously trespass and pull it out of my poor, vulnerable heart
That material, which emotions are made-of
Replenish that morose void with repertoires of treason
"I anoint thee to scar the spring"
I caress the exact spot, which I once assaulted
"As the streaks of fog & dust fade
A sight of grey ashes & soft limbs cut
The cold steel weapon, bleeding the emotion
Is the weight of pain on an old heart"
Sour blood streams freshly from my caged soul
The strange apathy of the sky-shameless to weep
How was I betrayed-my faith was so pure
The hate I resent-stalking blasphemy may be the cure
Источник https://alllyr.ru/song27893
From falling steep-a broken man in guilt
To become fulfilled-from the vows to the dark needs
The winter strips the human shell from it's virginity
The winter grows & nourishes towards a dark-melancholy
The castle of trust & faith crumbles, and creates the path
The path on which will lead him from the relic of the past
Oh, god of harmony & filth
Blister, bitterness they ask
The witches have done their task
To seize an emotion and then, to cage it in your palm
Vexatiously trespass and pull it out of my poor, vulnerable heart
That material, which emotions are made-of
Replenish that morose void with repertoires of treason
"I anoint thee to scar the spring"
I caress the exact spot, which I once assaulted
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