Hordes of faces
Empty eyes
I see nothing new
Seasoned schemes of slimy
The suffering's here
The wait is gone
The streets are
i serve my perdition
in this private hell
a thousand angers
have
Not of this world
And nothing bites like I do
I want to crawl inside your soul
Nestle in your
She rides
Let loose upon the world
She is the night
And my
Angels fall to earth
World heats down
Cool
Now your heart is cold
Waiting
Call me the hunter
That's my name
Pretty young thing
Yea, yea, yea
Ooh
I can feel it move me
