Dead Black (Heart of Ice)
Mitch Fletcher, Tom Preziosi
Winter's calling
Clawing her way into my veins
Dragging me to sleep
Her freezing embrace comforts me
As it makes me feel no more
Ancient pale hands broken
Wrenched around the Devil's horns
Black veins pulse with hate for life
Cold, rot
On march the wayward hordes
Killing for the crimson road
Black sewn eyes drown in fool's blood
As they seek the path of righteous war
Horizons vacant
Exhaling red frost
As the stars gaze down and witness doom
Empty night calls to the soul
Reality splinters, freeing the spirit
Shackles break, free to roam
Shadow wondering in fog
Free of existence and it's laws
They're crawling
I'm clawing my way into their veins
Dragging them to sleep
The dying of their soul comforts me
As they feel no more
Yow