Grinding, let the fire burn low
As the pulse comes flickering back
We are bound by belief in all that dies
And I will the skin
To dissolve
I worship the drug-flesh
And let the corpse go
Make it rain forever
Make it black
And make me whole...
Let the cipher call the priest
You can be my gallows pole
This desolation in the vein
Poisonous and vile
Tearing out the centre of the cancerous heart
And I am defined by the sickness
Oh the irony defies belief
Another metaphor to signify decay
And yet it shines
Let the cipher call the priest
You can be my gallows pole
Let the vultures be released
You can be my gallows pole
You are the priestess
You are the whore
You are deified/vilified
You're all that I know
You are the priestess
You are the whore
You are my world
Sacrosanct
You said destroy