At Night They Come - Paganizer

At night they’re whispering

I can’t stand their voices

The things they want from me, to bring them flesh

Still I succumb to the slaughter

I provide their greed

Another dead, another strangled

My hands do their deeds

Fulfill their wretched dreams

And in a twisted way

I need it

Slowly, death will not be quick

Struggling to survive

Thriving, on their fear

At night they’re whispering

I can’t stand their voices

The things they want from me, to bring them flesh

My hands do their deeds

Fulfill their wretched dreams

And in a twisted way

I need it