The pentagram is frozen, in your dark dreams
There are butchered christian priests
Falling in the common grave
Blood of christ paints my face.
Disgraced godly thoughts,
Thousand believer's souls
A burning church brings me joy,
Many believers affection burns in there.
My dark spirit purified after an unholy blasphemy.
Frozen pentagram shines on the night of the massacre.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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