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Day Of The Baphomets

Sawing off the pavement

Repenting their past lives

Might I be the only pain that's left to be left behind?

Clay and pygmy footsteps

Rusted, boil it clean

A bullet in linguistics

That only we can breathe

Now, I got a prayer that'll make you theirs now

Beneath sepulchres

Raise your entrails as an offer

Now, I got a prayer that'll make you theirs now

Beneath sepulchres

Raise your entrails as an offer

Following with pitchforks

In a cattle prodded theme

Signaling the sedative

To emaciate the queen

Bowing in constriction

Any time you leave

We've slipped ourselves in angels

In catabata leaves

Now, I got a prayer that'll make you theirs now

Beneath sepulchres

Raise your entrails as an offer

Now, I got a prayer that'll make you theirs now

Beneath sepulchres

Raise your entrails as an offer

In my sign I was born

To bring death at the footsteps of your home

Tonight I have sown

All the hair and crooked nails

That you all have worn

While your white sense of hope

I plant the vermin

Just who makes it so?

How long must we fold our hands?

Our guts are burning wheels again

Get a match that will make you thin

Come clean with the antidote

After all we came undone

A pair of sluts with hosts that fall

One day we will pay your debt

Our centipedes will pick the dead

Poachers in your home

How long must we fold our hands?

Our guts are burning wheels again

Get a match that will make you thin

Come clean with the antidote

After all we came undone

A pair of sluts with hosts that fall

One day we will pay your debt

Our centipedes will pick the dead

Follow every bottle out

And the cruelest smut, smut you know

It's the gash that autumn knows

Daughters lying at the door

Raise the body

Breathe your clear air

Everybody will call aloud

Everybody calls aloud

Everybody sing aloud

My hands secrete a monument

I am the reason

For your missing child

He might be home

But there's no trace

Under your pillow

I have left a spine

All the things we do

When you're away

I saw the message

That you wrote in the sand

Dismembered heads that come away

The anaesthetic of your gospel sin

Put a muzzle on the lamb

Put a muzzle on the lamb

Give me one page

Give me one page

Make it blank

Mix it, a leak will rain

Give me one page

Give me one page

Make it blank

We shall inflict your way

Maybe one day you'll stop and realize

All that you serveis dead

Give me your plate

Give me your plate

Make it break

Nothing you hold is safe

How long must we fold our hands?

Our guts are burning wheels again

Get a match that will make you thin

Come clean with the antidote

After all we came undone

A pair of sluts with hosts that fall

One day we will pay your debt

Our centipedes will pick the dead

Poachers in your home

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written by RODRIGUEZ, OMAR/BIXLER, CEDRIC

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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