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lyrics
Sacred,
Sacrilege.
Butter on my paws,
Lost scent of home, Long ago.
Your day of feast,
My day of damnation.
Chinese whispers of past lovers,
Who linger like bad odours,
Cats shriek like Beelzebub.
Skin splintered like Arjuna's arrows.
At the crossroad,
We dig our own graves,
And lay in them dormant,
Fate's waiting room,
Fate's waiting room.
Sacred,
Sacrilege
Sacred,
Sacrilege,
Sacred,
Sacrilege.
And the timepiece, has a sharp tongue,
That lulls like a pendulum,
A muscular metronome,
And her eyes are never closed.
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