My Dying Bride
She Heard My Body Dying
I watched the youth, dripped from my face
As I cut her free upon the water.
My name reversed is loneliness,
Increasing [of born?] to slaughter
Well loved and she still left me.
Her laugh, brief and vile.
With naked foot I give chase
Mile after soury mile.
Why is this for me?
From Letras Mania