Текст песни Virgin Black - Museum Of Iscariot, слова песни Virgin Black

Текст песни Virgin Black - Museum Of Iscariot

Virgin Black - Museum Of Iscariot слова песни

Jesus lies dying in my bed Companions since birth...in this stagnant dingy haunt he never really lived.Last night I beat him as he would not leaveMy insane eyes stare at him as his welted body bleeds Frequently I rape him as I know nothing elseHe curls up like a fetus and paints his face with sadness Now a fragment of remorse has etchedI bandage his wounds, I kiss the face of Jesus Christ but he is dead What can I do? You have forsaked me, called yourself messiah, expected me to followBut now he is dead and his prophecies with him I will bury him not as insult to your face as I stare at his corpse one detail disturbs me His cold stark finger points where I have not been... From my house, a cage of rotten woodI stumble forth to lay beneath the bush withered bones groan, I cultivate as the soil and I grow closer The sun receives an empty gaze it mourns it knows my life is gone No more to offer but my flesh to this soiland a single tear marks my final prayer a rosebud sits in the palm of your hand as I endthis flower it blossoms

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Virgin Black

Museum Of Iscariot

Текст песни Virgin Black - Museum Of Iscariot

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