årabrot - ha-satan dêofol lyrics
under a dying olympic flame
they dance gaily around yonder maypole
they hammer nails to the cross
and the blood on the floor is yours
you may put me in a barrel, roll my skull down the hill
tar and feather for the non-conformist
the blood on the floor is yours
i hoist my half-dead wife
hold her tightly in my arms
i dream i k!ll her for my own concerns
the blood on the floor is really mine
protrusive eyes, a fixed gaze
i arose in a haze
to open for my very lover
hands dripping
fingers flowing
under a dying olympic flame
life revolves around yonder maypole
the gates will never really open
and the blood on the floor is yours
she’ll wail hysterical -rg-sms
and laugh at tormentor’s scourge
chains and fetters for the formalist
the blood on the floor is yours
in beautifully groomed gardens
the gates of life opens upon death
a monstrous and hideous p-ssing
the blood on the floor is really mine
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