Sarke
The Drunken Priest
Laid out before himA book of old psalmsHis eyes are blindedBy the darkest shadesHis mouth is dry like sandThe voice is rustySpeaks about death and sorrowAnd how to save your soulThe drunken priestOn his alter throneDrowning in wineAnd endless funeralsAroma of wine and vomitInfects the airWearing the hammerheadSaved by the iron bell
From Letras Mania