Texty: My Dying Bride. One Of Beauty's Daughters -.

Your name will walk the years of shame
Your hands, my face, the look, the taste

To gaze how fondly on thy beautiful face
To fold thee in my great arms, my dark embrace

In my arms I comforted her, and she looked up at me
Weep did she and tried to escape.
My mind she did read
I held her face in my hands and winked my eye
Whispering into her ear "now your min"

Her eyes, her cries, my thoughts, she dies
Walk away, she can try, and if she does, she dies.