In a graveyard where the shadows roam And the mist spreads out thick as foam There’s a white Mary’s statue and a priest alone Beneath the silent snowfall And red tears drop on wish to touch Where lust rises Rigid among spasms of pleasure and a cilice close To the penitence of vows as thorns of rose Ma belle, my hell I masturbate myself with the icon 'pon my bed If could blind walls of cell Reflect the perverse I’ve kissed where She bled Weeping serum red As relic I collect Her scent with care I breathe A menstrual fetish for My private incest Rigid among spasms of pleasure And a cilice close as thorns of rose On this evening when storm awakes And her figure stands proud beyond the graves There’s the last drop of faith and a priest insane About transuding strange And blood tears drop on wish To touch where lust rises