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The church-tower has bent I'm standing before you stretched, Your bloody spittle you've squirted into me Like a drop of poison, how I feel I wish my release My decomposed body Trembles on your altar, My red liquid Starts to run I can't get rid of you My blood is flowing in your mouth forever Everlasting failure - I should go Guarding my wound opened You protect your living nourishment I taste your body Feeling the bitterness of your spittle I bless and adore you Darkness |
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