The Dark Chevalier awaits the dusk To follow the scent You would mask With immortal affection his tongue he dips In the sanguine little pond that monthly drips
Let your softer lips dew his With a mightly bloody kiss
When you lie to rest at night Don`t clog the sanguine flow Summon the immortal Knight Before you give in to Dream
Hair spread on the pillow, her limbs apart She wants to give in to Ravennish Art. The monthly crimson drops let free to flow Set up a sanguine bait He must follow
Summon the Dark Duke for The Harvest of Blood Let Him taste the crimson lips ready to flood.
