Loading details…
about this album
Terror, at the alter The choir boy sings A deep, misfortune For the unborn king A brief, enquiry Seeps to begin A series of errors In the umbrella of sin And steeped, in merciless Cynical pain The grasp, of padlocks In the unforeseen rage The curtain falls The clock turns back And an invitation crept To the knife and the axe And now a little blood trickles A little blood trickles For I am the priest, and you are the vicar For I am the priest, and you are the vicar For I am the priest, and you are the vicar Patient in waiting, for the slaughter And a little blood trickles And a little blood trickles And a little blood trickles And a little, a little blood And a little blood trickles And a little blood trickles And a little blood trickles And a little, a little blood User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.
