My skin is cold, transfusion with somebody morose andOld, drop into fruitless dyingIt was tempting and bared, the whoring angel risingNow burning prayers, my silent time of losing
Chorus:My foes — they can’t destroy my bodyColliding slow, like life itself
Long for the blur, we cannot dry much longerCement to dirt, disgusted with my cheapness
Chorus
Reaching down, staring up (at the forgiver)
