To sew this sack of Rotting corpses, I gather the needles dragging into the moon light. In this exhausted walking night, I seek to wake up a dear human soul, In singing Lulala Lulala.
The impure blue eyes, With the red wound pattern in your breast, Begins to shake in simmering noises. A small enigmatic sign is moving in the dark night. Ah ! My beautiful princess of night.
Crossing the death hill dyed of end life, My formerly shining nest of love is waiting for me. Inside my distant ambiguous memories, I’m speaking of persons who are already passed there are 100 years.
If your life will burn out, Don’t be afraid, I will succeed to peel you. I don’t need acknowledgments to feel your rotting smell And touch your delicious changing promegrante color.
To sew the wound of sack Running in your back, The nest pale of spider is trickling in every trees of the forest. I swear a white wish in the high sky Resonant in a far and low noise of bells for eternity.
I respect the fluffy blue air And dry up completely my hand. The fate mechanism Will not be cancel. I don’t need an equal compensation and consideration, Right ! My beautiful princess of night.
Crossing the death hill soaked of rotting life My formerly shining nest of love is waiting for me. Inside my distant ambiguous memories, I’m speaking of persons who are already passed there are 100 years.
One day, my life will burn out. But I’m not scare, because I’m never separate of My black book containing the black spells magic, To receive the gathered souls, in this place.
To continue this paradise of death parade, The ecstasy dream of the feast necrophilia, I want to feel your pure rotting smell And touch your delicious changing promegrante color.
One day, my life will burn out. But I’m not scare, because I’m never separate of My black book containing the black spells magic, To receive the gathered souls, in this place.
Hey, I’m speaking of you toys. You must dedicate entirely your body for me.