Sweet Voices
Right before the daylight Has finally passed it’s time Rises now a stricken voice Begins its secret rhyme
A hunger so obsolete Full of strange desire A yearning beyond the grave This night is to be dire
You’re seeking me Behind my eyes You see me And I say What is in my face What is on my mind
Whisper now your wishing well In a state of false denial To a kind of makeshift hell This night belongs the dyer
You’re seeking me And I freeze You see me And I fear What is in my face What is on my mind Oh, what is on my mind
I hear them calling Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet voices Voices, voices of death |
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