(J. Nordavind '96)
A cold sharpened blade
Plunge through the skin.
Death triumphant.
Death the king
Blood on my hands.
Blood on my lips
I took the frail bliss of your eyes
And its darker than you think...
I violate.
I come at night.
My great endurance of body, mind and heart
Let me take you through...
A gust of wind.
Torrent of rain.
Blood and semen
Murder is art
The cold blade.
The cold blade.
Writer(s): Roger Rasmussen, Norway Sadnes
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