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You call from the shadows and curse my blood in the wind you speak in riddles the substance which is chipping away at the garden so balefully I will hunt you and even your god can't save you when the wind blows a mourning morning whispers serenity there's none to be had I will curse the very soil you walk until you drown in your own shame and feel the sweet kiss of death across your cold skin under the pale horned moon Their blood is stricken and cursed to the outer hells We conquer all in the sign of evil into the cold embrace as the wind blows through the willows and the signature of man has blinded the stars and the infinities beyond reclaim the alter rewrite the books I will hunt you and even your god can't save you when the wind blows a mourning morning whispers serenity there's none to be had |
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