Every Christian cross you find, you shall turn
The pleasures of the flesh will not deny
Her sweet voice of great lust
Summons me into my ear with unholy impatience
Sweet Whispers
With blood we praise his epic acts of lust
Accomplishing every desire of pleasure and desecration
With the ignorance from your cross as the witness
To those suffering from their own satisfaction
Sweet Whispers
The perfect way of life devoured by doubt
Embrace it as your own let the seed sprout
Trying to rip the veil bastard sons and daughters
In this game without rules, mercy or compassion
Be your own creation
Oh beauty in the darkness you kept feeding me
As I behold the flesh profane and sweet
We are gods in formation
