| <Dissenter> page <Apocalypse Of The Damned> album page |
Dead AuthorSleeping nightmaresSleeping dreams I'm going on blasphemy way My enormous desires My only one destiny Dull smell of perspiration Makes awake from the dead By strange sight I need to differentiate the shapes The blood flows down the edge Like a deadauthor I feel the bowels on my hands A poet of dead words I'll rise up my head I'll feel life full power Which flows slowly It's my thorn in his crown I'm hiding in darkness Alone in an abyss of pain Broken by the nails of fear I curse my creator The blood flows down the edge Like an eternal fire I create the fear by my face A sculptor of dead bodies When an art is a cult of death A saviour of suffering An exiting smell of fear An anxiety of miserable life A sweet smell of blood Soils my body By trembling tongue I try to lick its drops |