Claws pulled back in dismay Behold the Morbid Saints last march Lungs now filled with unfailing dark Leaving a whining Shadow in your blood White light, black rain Behold the Morbid Saints last parade Cascades of ash and swift decay Screaming whispers of a Funeral Dawn Wreaths of black iron, Deathcult caravan Behold the Morbid Saint in his grave Murderous current of needlesharp teeth Sunken deep into the flesh of the unwashed
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