These symptoms don't remit, for death becoming sick.The long hairs feel them stand, the nightworld calls again.Your existence turning black, there'll be no coming back.A desire to tear and hack, it's growing lord please help us! Reply
These symptoms don't remit, for death becoming sick.
The long hairs feel them stand, the nightworld calls again.
Your existence turning black, there'll be no coming back.
A desire to tear and hack, it's growing lord please help us!