The mountans at her back The horizon gnawing at her throat Slowing the butchers you planted bloom and swing the blades Fumble with the ropes As the twilight takes its place
Gaze at the witch boiling inside
Broken nails Grip feels frail In sheets she'll sail Close your eyes oh friend I'll show you how they did you I'll make them fail
The scorn you left her At pleasure's door You fucking bastard In sheets she sails
