LYRIC
This is when your flesh
Crimson and pale
Withers behind the blackened veil
The vacant flesh
A petrifying look
The choice is easy
The outcome always the same
The shortest way to cardiac arrest
The flish that dreams are made of
Doesn’t last
This is when you turn
To sanctimonious rituals
The duty of the beast
The duty of the beast
The duty of the beast
