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The Taste Of Sin

Earthcorpse

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

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






Mais tocadas

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