Beatam Mortem Expectans Lyrics

No temple
A dungeon
Begotten from pure flesh
Created to suffer
A senseless existence
A yearning
For the choking embrace of the rope

A yearning
For the final hot kiss of the muzzle

A yearning
For the cutting caress of the blade
A yearning
For pain and all transitory

Begotten to perish
The same flesh, the same blood
But all is corrode

Will the yearning become greed?
Hidden, behind my own flesh
Invisible.
An absolute darkness
My yearning will be my gift to you
A gift of pain
Lay down in s***

Pray for all the things...
...for all with I'm finished

Beatam mortem exspectans...