Throne Of The Beheaded - Glass Lungs | Текст песни

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• Throne Of The Beheaded
• Glass Lungs

He walks along these haunted halls,
Where no soul roams along these city streets.
Where this blood is splattered on these walls.
And the stench of her corpse within these sheets.

It crawls within her,
And writhes beneath his skin.
He's waited for so long,
To fulfill his fantasy.
He rips out her heart,
And holds it in her face.
So she could see how fucking cold it is before she takes her last breath.

Is he human? Is he even fucking sane?
Can he feel? Are emotions just
Fucking bleak? And as he swallows his blood,
He's fucking weak.

The guilt takes over and his smile fades to hate.
As the rage dies down he loads the gun for a clean slate.
Holds it to his head, as his sorrow starts to flourish.
Before he's fucking dead, his thoughts become his own fears.

It crawls within her,
And writhes beneath his skin.
He's waited for so long,
To fulfill his fantasy.
He rips out her heart,
And holds it in her face.
So she could see how fucking cold it is before she takes her last breath.

Is he human? Is he even fucking sane?
Can he feel? Are emotions just
Fucking bleak? And as he swallows his blood,
He's fucking weak.

THIS IS WHERE YOU DIE! (x4)

Bree breebree breebree(x4)

Is he human? Is he even fucking sane?
Can he feel? Are emotions just
Fucking bleak? And as he swallows his blood,
He's fucking weak.

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