White Blooded - Ritual

This house is built on polluted roots.

With infected love, an impaired progenitor.

Pure blood.

White blood.

«We're in this together»

You can see pretty well with that one good eye what your killing.

Will the dust settle on these beds or on you?

Will all of the children grow up to see though

What they’ve been born into?

Whom the bastard sons and daughters of

Are but malignant growth.

Take a bow.

«The disease is kin to us, now.»

«Hide away from the sun, dont you dare fall inlove.

We can love you more than anyone.»

Its alright.

White blood.

Momma dont let her baby boys grow up to be gentle men.

She dont let her little girls grow into princesses.

With faces only a mother could love,

Carve your disillusioned words into those walls