In heaps they were
|
The deads stacked high
|
I crapped and sang among them.
|
|
Black was I, yet bent to it;
|
God and I had shown them.
|
|
It fell at my feet
|
No!
|
It didn't just come to me to heal it's wounds
|
I will kiss it
|
|
It is within me now.
|
I feel the birth of doom
|
And the fruit of my body,
|
Stares right out of this room
|
|
-----------------
|
The Distance, Busy With Shadows
|
| My Dying Bride |
