Eucharist The Predictable End
Low the music falls, tell me how sad are the tunes of death
You sang to me, with a leper tounge you kissed me with your darkness
I thirsted for your water
I hungered for your love
So bravely, fly upon my broken wings into the cold
Shapes of the night, leave me here with sorrow growing from my chest
Low the music falls in sombre gloom I die every day
in silence, choked by the devils inside your embrace
The predictable end
and trampled like a serpent underneath your feet
lead me by the light of your eyes, by your hearts labyrinths
when trembling in your footsteps the deeper became my wounds