In a graveyard where the shadows roam
And the mist spreads out thick as foam
There’s a white Mary’s statue and a priest alone
Beneath the silent snowfall

And red tears drop on wish to touch
Where lust rises
Rigid among spasms of pleasure and a cilice close
To the penitence of vows as thorns of rose
Ma belle, my hell

I masturbate myself
with the icon 'pon my bed
If could blind walls of cell
Reflect the perverse

I’ve kissed where She bled
Weeping serum red
As relic I collect
Her scent with care I breathe

A menstrual fetish for
My private incest
Rigid among spasms of pleasure
And a cilice close as thorns of rose

On this evening when storm awakes
And her figure stands proud beyond the graves
There’s the last drop of faith and a priest insane
About transuding strange

And blood tears drop on wish
To touch where lust rises