The little bell echoes
the great bell groans
this templed city of tombs
where death and grief blooms
fiendish desires in human form, leather clad
black is the veil, streaming in the wind
stilleto heels clicking up the cemetary gates
death among the dead, haunting masoleums
all this death, oh, joyful sight
naked on a table of stone
juices dripping from the wet chaste
exitement of fear and death, it's to me so dear
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