My Own Grave
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Where Carnage Reigns

My Own Grave


Tattered tapestries woven by the hands of terror.
The texture of dread carved deep, nailed in.
Drifting in between unconsciousness and death.
Chain-connected hooks scraping at the bone.

Dread is the wood of which we build our caskets.
Passitivity where once adrenaline controlled.
A secret song at the center of the world.
the exquisite sound of razors through flesh.

The judgement bell chimes for death of superstition.
Inside this labyrinth of ameloriate pain.
The burning touch of Lament configuration.
Slave in the kingdom where carnage reigns.

Like a stream of poision through the veins of time.
Destined to return as the tide turns.
When the time is ripe you will wish that you had drowned.

It's coming, gnawing, ripping.
Flesh from bone, torn apart.
Welcome to where carnage reigns.
Step inside the hellbound heart.

The judgement bell chimes for death of superstition.
Inside this labyrinth of ameloriate pain.
Skin burning from the touch of Lament configuration.
Slave in the kingdom where carnage reigns.

Composição: Anders Härén

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