Cold Womb

All left in favor of a well dreamt heaven
All left in favor of the kingdom of the dead
In the arena of our whims, the arena of our desires
Yellow pages rotten scripts with laws of our denials

Of what may reign, bodies in decay
A dreadful act of the endless lust
Wet ground hollowed out
A narrow entrance a fear unknown
Roots embrace the sweet end.
Yellow pages rotten scripts with laws of our denials

Silent and still afraid
A fire of dust to burn our graves
A sin to bare our fates
Naked bodies of trust

Leaves now cover the ground
Deep dark ritual
No ones sees, till the end of time
Corpses tightly bound

Silent and still afraid
A fire of dust to burn our graves
A sin to bare our fates
Cold womb