Texty: Panzerchrist. Room Service. The Creature.

A creature
Clad in tatters of dead joy
Bleeding
The red of the holly berries
And crowned
With their spiky leaves
By the light of the sun
I?m running through
Failing my search
When did my strenght fail?
Seeing the sun die
Year after year
There?s nothing new
Get?s ready now
To terrorize
So pure I am
Where I bleed
Shreds of fate
Given life
By my fierce scream
I am mad
(And some black metal rubbish)