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mea culpa

aajkal i m listening to a lot of Children of Bodom. Alexi, you are my hero.
this might sound destructive.

holding the scythe up and high,
a lake of blood he passes by,
smashing a bunch of maggots under his feet,
he loves the way they die.

he growls,
she cires
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa

the dark woods he stroll into,
a foggy castle, he looks forward to,
as lightening struck the cellar,
doomed is the shelter, he seeks upto.

he growls,
she cires
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa

waiting for the death to take his pride,
in a muddy damned graveyard they slide,
to wolf on land and ravens in air,
he offers the flesh of his virgin bride.

he growls,
she cires
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa

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