My blood flows in sobs,
The way a fountain overflows,
But there's no wound,
And it sighs as it goes.
It covers all living things,
And keeps them all well fed,
It turns stone into flesh,
as it covers the world red.
The dead lie laughing as I sink,
The needles in my happy eyes,
Like sin in holy water fonts,
I feel their tortured howling rise.
My blood is my bones,
The way a mountain's overthrown,
But there's no wound,
My own skin not my own.
They dead they bow before they drink,
The seed is sown before my eyes,

My flesh a holy water font,
My undeath a surprise.
Bleeding lakes of blood is where all your sorrows sink, what haunts the heart drains my shining blood for all the whores to drink.
And a crimson tide awaits offering no short supply, when I dream I die but fate is holding open my eyes.
My blood flows in sobs,
The way a fountain overflows,
But there's no wound,
And it sighs as it goes.
It covers all living things,
And keeps them all well fed,
It turns stone into flesh,
as it covers the world red.
The dead lie laughing as I sink,
The needles in my happy eyes,
Like sin in holy water fonts,
I feel their tortured howling rise.
Bleeding lakes of blood is where all your sorrows sink, what haunts the heart drains my shining blood for all the whores to drink.
And a crimson tide awaits offering no short supply, when I dream I die but fate is holding open my eyes