Murder - Bride

Feels like suicide salt to the wounds of pain

Pray for a miracle while you are going insane

Carved like a lover’s decadent stare

Keep going back to the temptation in the air

Wash away his touch, enemy inside

The Lord will come to her, find the reason to justify

Virtue is swollen, the night is spent and down

She’s so sure of herself she’ll stare into the sun

Wake up in the morning take a deep breath

There’s no smell of roses, just the scent of death

Life’s intoxicating like street confetti red

Can’t start believing with so many voices in your head