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The Slow Death - The Slow Death | Текст песни

The gentle hands, those tenders of my wounds
They whisper softly, and softly they cry
I have returned, only to be snatched from them
They weep for me and so do I mourn for them
All of them,
For in my embrace,
I have cursed them
For in my return,
I have carried to them,
The slow death

The vengeful Lord has not accepted my penitence
This wandered who once was a sinner
The slow death would too easily release me
From the horror of my memories
So the Lord
In his cruelty
Has cursed me
To in my return
Carry in my bones
This black death

Two score days after our reunion
The will receive the Lord's last touch,
Crimson kisses across the breast
Distended skin of sallow aspect
And they fall
Into fever
They bleed
And they choke
The wounds weep
Their breathes cease

I will my aching bones, burning throat, shivering blood
To now rest and surrender, release me to this black death
Before my haunted eyes are forced to see
Before my guilty heart is forced to feel
The horror
And the hopeless sorrow
That awaits them
I will close my eyes
I close my soul
And they begin to die

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