|
One thousand different rooms full of pain |
|
One thousand rooms full of different pain |
|
There are no words to describe all the horror |
|
Which these thick stonewalls have witnessed |
|
Voyaging into the ravines in their empty eyes |
|
You can observe all those |
|
Demons as they rise |
|
Experiencing the perverse form of true art |
|
All the poetry in dead flesh and suffocated love |
|
Listen carefully to the dialogue between your skin and these rusty blades |
|
Feel free to appreciate our ways to progress you |
|
Worship the blackened lights in our forwarded hearts |
|
As we turn your filthy body into a piece of art |
|
The desecration of god's image is almost completed |
|
As your desperation enriches this masterpiece |
|
The symmetry of mutilation is worth marveling |
|
All the artists wait for your pulse to seize |
|
In the breathless flesh exhibition our loyality is comprised |
|
Through the materialising of sickness our praises are combined |
|
With the magnificience of this art we hail |
|
Thee, oh Satan!!! |
|
Listen carefully to the dialogue between your skin and these rusty blades |
|
Feel free to appreciate our ways to progress you |
|
Worship the blackened lights in our forwarded hearts |
|
As we turn your filthy body into a piece of art |
