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The Morticians Flame
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4:05
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| Добавлена 1 сентября 2011 пользователем Iron Man |
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Текст песни The Morticians Flame
Hunter of tears, relative to pain
half of this world is dark with the stain
the stain of unknowing the dead flowe buds,
on smiling lips is innocent blood
the corpse of your god can only rot
and grow cold now promise
you'll kill me before I get old
I heard you on the telephone moaning
half of this world is dark with the stain
the stain of unknowing the dead flowe buds,
on smiling lips is innocent blood
the corpse of your god can only rot
and grow cold now promise
you'll kill me before I get old
I heard you on the telephone moaning
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