The Taste of Sin
Earthcorpse
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Face to face
Laden with her dew
I want you to know me
The scent of filth is
Soaking wet
The wisdom is of angels
Draped in savage wounds
Left raw to my touch
No other touch to make me come
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Kiss me like children
Lay down entwine my limbs
Inside smear yourself
And taste my sin
I will be your god
Soothe my bleeding wounds
Thirst on my crimson cuts
Feel the warmth of my poison