Texty:
Salt The Wound The Beginning

[Instrumental]

'm embarrassed But I'm much more sorry All this pain Begins to feel like pleasure With my tears You'd make a sea a desert Salt my wounds And I'll keep

, left to me in a will Just a plate of bad habits and plenty of salt for the wounds Just a plate of bone china and plenty of salt for the wounds At

, the Wrath of the desert, skulls piled in A row, why didn't you see? Carry me back, drag me by foot Saving my life, slitting her throat, salting her wounds

wall. Their skin is hanging off in sheets. Each face is painted like a whore. Their blood is shining in the sun. Their wounds are powdered with white salt

the foundation of life Burn me but only at the surface Don't waste your sacrifice on me The damage is done Choking with black corrosive pollution Rubbing salt in your wounds

Nothing will be left of your repulsive world I'll take you to a place where your cries cannot be heard My laughter, like salt, I pour into your wounds

'm after Come do that wicked deed aha I can hear those cries of love A wolf howls at the moon A heart attack, a sex maniac With rock salt in my wounds

feed on his disgust. But if perhaps the salt might stain your skin, and if perhaps the smoke might weep your eyes, listen while the threnodies begin.