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Fevers and Suffering

de Spectral Wound

When he was born
Into innossence
A life without worries
A life of great prosperity
But realirty was soon to come
Alone left in darkness
Of all family forlorn
Hardly ever saw the sun
Tears of sadness and suffering

Locked inside a blacked out room
Left alone with nothing

Bastard Child, Deamon Child
You've been tortured all your life
Bastard Child... Set youself free!!!

The gift of speaking
He was given very late
Thrashings he had always known
Told that he was ignorant
By father, brother, mother - scorn
Torn apart, broken down
A mind deeply in decay
Hatred, the only thing
Flowing, Rushing through his vains

But now a plan has taken form
Bestial and vengeful

Searching for his inner strengh
To carry through with the plan
Looking at the shinning blade
Smiling at the reflection of his face

Now he's waiting in the darkness
They will soon be home again

He can hear them at the door
Time for revange...

The rapturous feeling of the blade
Digging deep into their flesh

The scent of freedom in he's nostrols
Bathing in their bloody entrails

Bastard Child, Deamon child
You've been tortured all your life
Bastard Child, you're finally free!

Sat free of all his pain
The bloody hands of freedom
Finally free to see the sun
Forgotten thoug always rembered

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