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Mase On Sunday

de Dub Aura

The climate surrounding you is always cold
Disgusted you wander midst humans
You wish they would know

That you despise them all
And they will never see
The desolate darkness
That it belongs to thee

You wait for the night
Instinctively praising the death of light

The towering beacon that burns your eyes
You mount it and kill it and flee the site

Occult black winter sky
Magic swirls in awe
Wind through the frozen trees
An image to die for

Raise infernal knives
Call onto heavens high
"i'll rape you all when i die"

Your deathwish for all sacred life is so real
A day is descending you waken and gather your steel

You wait for the night
Instinctively praising the death of light
You're one of a kind because you are of lucifer and of ice
With lust so immensely strong
...to die

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