Insanity creeps in, like rain into a well of sorts
Brine, like a nail in the head, left over from a bomb exploded long ago
Ghastly wails, in the pupils of the eye, each time it closes
Shivers down my spine
Lost morale, lost chances, changes left alone
Music to my ears, those wails
Wailing banshees,
My lust for such women, and only lust maybe
but its been me, all along
and shall forever lust,
Maybe for a Countess, an evil woman, from hell maybe
Bite into her soul in unison with me
