Murder Nights

Electrifying enemies with nightmares
The high priestess of print hold their command
Reeling from the anger of the circumstances
A dagger marked with lies drips from her hand
They don’t know what to do, it must be true
They don’t know what we do, it must be true
She’ll drown in a pool of fabled writing
The truth will sleep like poison in her mind
The enemy within are vilified and slandered
And dragged along the streets they left behind
I don’t want to know your name
I’ll cut your throat all the same
A mask of death that slips again
You’re sleeping in the piggy pen
I know you love murder nights, I know you love death