attention!

warning: this blog is about blood, death and sex.| in diesem blog geht es um blut, tot und sex.

Samstag, 5. November 2011

Samstag, 16. April 2011

#19


#18

kiss me
k-k-kiss me. 
infect me with your love 
and fill me with your poison.
take me
t-t-take me.
wanna be a victim
ready for abduction.


i just wanna make you sweat.

#17

It was an exceptionally cold Halloween and I was closing the last set of the Haunted crypt costume party, I was the lead singer of a heavy metal band. At one point in the set I felt a shiver run down my spine and that is when I noticed a dark figure standing motionless in the front row. The glowing white face wasn't what startled me it was Halloween and there were many white faces in the audience. What caught my attention was the strange pull that this figure inflicted on me, I remember once in high school this same confusion when I was on magic mushrooms, but I never even drank a beer before going on stage so I knew that it was this being that was effecting my reality. She was a very beautiful creature indeed and I heard a voice within my head that said "Tonight we will be together" and as the guitar solo ripped into the night I answered her into the microphone "Yes we will". And that was my last night as a mortal. I never had any illusions about what it would mean to be a vampire, I haven't lived the usual tortured life of most immortals and I quite enjoy this gift that has been given to me. My maker was very old and very strong and so I in turn have become very strong prematurely as many might say. I have met many jealous vampires sometimes a century my senior and to my total amazement when these creatures have attacked me my maker would only watch and smile while I as if an adult fighting a child would easily overpower them. She never kept anything from me and all of my questions she has always answered but one. I remember my first feeding, she took me to a park where despite the time of night people where everywhere. I felt very strange, very thirsty and I wanted nothing more than to drink from my maker but she wanted me to drink from a mortal, to see how I would do this without any direction from her. I turned to ask her how I should do it and when I looked she was nowhere to be seen. I was very startled by a hand grabbing me by the shoulder and as I looked at who it belonged to I saw a sad little man, he was shaking, he had deep sunk in eyes and he smelled horrible. He was mumbling something about rock and shoving his hands with palms upturned at me as if I had something for him. "Not another crackhead" I was thinking to myself when suddenly the repulsion of this dirty little man melted away from me and I saw him as a beautiful and glowing being. I could feel the warmth emanating from his aura and I could smell a sweet aroma which I soon discovered was his blood. Suddenly and violently I grabbed him and bit into his out stretched expecting arm. He began to scream so I reached up and covered his face with my hand. I didn't realize that I was suffocating him, I didn't realize that he was dying, I only heard a very fast beating that was slowing down as his will to resist me faded. I drew the blood as warm loving vibrations filled my entire being and I just wanted to drink, to drink forever. A sudden and powerful blow tossed me fifteen feet and I landed beneath a swing set. I felt myself being lifted then we where both suddenly in an alley and my maker was slapping my hand as if scorning a child. "You must never drink until death" she said, "You didn't even have to kill him at all". That is when she told me that many vampires drain their victims causing death. She didn't believe that murder was necessary for me, that I was strong and I didn't really need that much blood. My maker values all forms of life and I haven't killed my prey since.



The greatest lesson that I have learned since becoming immortal besides a respect for all forms of life would have to be that you, if mortal or immortal must be happy with who and what you are. You cannot escape who you truly are by becoming something else. I have met many mortals who hate themselves and thought that becoming a vampire would change this self-hatred and ease them of their suffering. Yet after the transition they soon discover that they hate themselves even more now. So I say this to you; love yourself because you all, even if you don't realize it, are unconditionally loved and you always will be.

Donnerstag, 14. April 2011

#16

Her eyes seem without a soul, sad dark and sometimes lonely. The spark that was once lit has forever gone shaded.

The smile that once appeared has long since faded. Her mind at a time quite bright now just jaded. As she slowly look's around she realizes she has become everything she's ever hated.

In her mind she wonders if it's to late for a change, or is it that the whole thought of change is just so over rated. Could she really ever over come what she never wanted to become in the first place. 


poem - which means a lot to me.

i mean, common girl. the world has changed. get the fuck over yourself and live your life! 'cause you just got one!

Mittwoch, 13. April 2011

#15


 




#14

FUCK YOU!




and now, you want a text. an amazing text about my feelings, about the feelings of a person.
but what if, what if i'm not in the mood to write somethin like this?
someday, you reach the point, the point that tells you: stop, it's enough - let it go.
no you are not allowed to give up, to give your life away.
you have to live, even if it seems to be impossible. impossible, this word doesn't even excist honey!
you're hurt, of course you are. your heart is just killed with a stick. - like a vampire, right through your heart.
but that's not the point! don't let him be the reason for your suicide.
he mustn't be the reason! 'cause he's just a  little piece of shit, like every guy outthere!

Don't let you feelings control your life.
you have to be stronger than them.

#13



Damon seufzte genervt, als sie nur diese fiesen Worte für ihn übrig hatte. Es war ein Seufzen, als wenn ein kleines Kind einem eine Frage stellte, die man schon 100 Mal beantwortet hatte. „Katherine, Katherine...“, murmelte er. Er wollte sie bettelnd und flehend und nach Kräften ringend, denn er wollte sich rächen. Er wollte sie leiden lassen, sie quälen und ihr denselben Schmerz antun, den sie ihm angetan hatte. Er wollte sie demütigen und am Boden sehen, während er sie fickte und ihr Orgasmus sie überrollen würde. Kurz schnalzte er mit der Zunge, schob sein Glied mit der Spitze in ihren Hintern, was ein Stöhnen ihren Lippen entweichen ließ. Gleichzeitig zischte er in ihr Ohr: „Wenn du deinen verdammten Orgasmus haben willst, dann musst du wohl betteln. Unzwar lieb und nett und vor allem so laut, dass ich dich hören kann. In meinem Alter lassen die Ohren ein wenig nach. Verstehst du, Drecksschlampe?!“, knurrte er und biss kurz in ihren Hals. Jedoch nicht so tief, dass Blut heraus treten würde. Nein, das könnte er später immer noch vollbringen. Während er darauf wartete, dass sie nun endlich die erlösenden Worte sagen würde, schlängelte er seine freie Hand unter ihrem Körper hindurch und kniff herzhaft doll in ihre rechte Brustwarze, von der Schweiß perlte. Hach, wie er ihre Schreie vermischt mit diesem köstlichen Stöhnen liebte. Seine andere Hand zog das Eisen fast vollständig aus ihr heraus. Und als er bemerkte, dass er damit fast normal mit ihr umgegangen war – immerhin hatte er es immer besonders langsam in sie eingeführt – seufzte er kurz, jedoch mehr zu seinem eigenen Vergnügen, und rammte es mit all seiner Kraft in sie hinein. Ihr Körper zuckte unter ihm, krümmte sich vor Schmerz und gleichzeitig ungebändigter Lust, wurde erschüttert von ihren Schreien, Stöhnen und Keuchen. Er lächelte diabolisch. „Los! Sprich, du Hure.“, murmelte er abwertend und begann das Eisen ein wenig in ihr zu drehen, jedoch nicht so sehr, dass sie eine Chance haben würde, um zu kommen und ihre Lust auszuleben.
-
Katherine schluckte. Was sollte sie jetzt tun? Seine Worte waren Abschaum in ihren Ohren. Er beleidigte sie, als wäre sie ein billiges Flittchen. Das war sie aber nicht, sie war keine Hure, die er sich mieten und schon gar nicht wie Dreck behandeln konnte. Aber sie wollte ihn, so dringend. Jetzt sofort. Damon jedoch, redete weiter, beleidigte sie und lies die Wut in ihr nur noch mehr steigen. Sie drehte ihren Kopf zu ihm um und sah nur das Eisen, welchers er mit all seiner Kraft in sie hinein rammte. Katherine schrie auf. Ihr Puls raste. Der Schmerz schoss durch ihren gesamten Körper, wie ein Blitz der einen Baum traf. Mit einem lauten Stöhnen, sackte sie zusammen. Seine Worte, sein fieses, abwertendes Grinsen, es machte sie wahnsinnig. Er wollte das sie bettelte. Nungut. Sie kniff die Augen zusammen und stützte sich vom Boden ab, um sich aufzurichten. Damons Blick lag weiterhin auf ihr, doch er wusste das sie zu schwach war, um ihm in irgendeiner Weise wehzutun. Langsam, drehte sie sich um und baute sich mit Schmerz verzerrtem Gesicht vor ihm auf. Seine Augen waren zu Schlitzen verängt und in seiner rechten Hand, schwang das Glüheisen, jeder Zeit zum Schlag bereit. ''Warte'', kam es aus Katherines Mund, bevor sie ebenso langsam, fast wie ein Zombie auf ihn zu kam. Blut lief an ihrem Bein entlang, warscheinlich wegen dem Eisen, welches er ihr in die Scheide gerammt hatte. Ihr Gesicht war bleich, noch blasser als sonst, doch in ihren Augen spiegelte sich immer noch die Lust. Die Gier nach Sex. Kurz vor ihm blieb sie stehen. Ihr Blick wanderte von seinem Oberkörper aufwärts zu seinen Augen, seinen eisblauen, kalten Augen. Katherine starrte ihn direkt an, versuchte seine mit ihren Rehaugen festzuhalten. Dann holte sie tief Luft und leckte sich kurz über die Lippen. Ihre Stimme klang laut und fest: ''Damon. Würdest du mich bitte zum Orgasmus bringen? Mich ficken so, dass mir Hören und Sehen vergeht?!'' Sie sagte dies ohne das auch nur die Röte in ihr Gesicht stieg, oder ihr Blick betreten zu Boden wanderte. Nachdem die Worte gesagt waren hob sie ihre Hand, wobei Damon kurz zusammen zuckte und zum Schlag ausholte, und legte sie unter sein Kinn. Mit zwei Fingern, zog sie sein Gesicht zu ihrem heran und legte dann, voller Leidenschaft, ihre Lippen auf seine.

#12


enemy of mine, i'll fuck you like the devil. 
Violent inside, beautiful and evil.
I'm a ghost. You're an angel.
We're one and the same, just remains of an age.
Lost in a day dream, what do you see?
If you're looking for Jesus, get on your knees!

#11

You wanna party? 
i fucking show you how to party!
let's go!

#10

Damon's Lippen glitten über ihren Hals, bevor er beide Zähne in der zarten Haut versenkte. Ein leises Seufzen, ob vor Schmerz  oder Glück konnte sie selbst nicht definieren, entwich ihren Lippen. Direkt gefolgt von einem leidenschaftlichen Stöhnen, als er in sie eindrang. Katherine krallte sich mit beiden Händen in das weiße Bettlacken, während Damon's Hände über ihren Körper glitten. Dieser Moment war nicht so -  nicht so wie die Anderen. Es war Sex, aber auf eine ganz andere Art und Weise. Sie fühlte sich wie eine Jungfrau, die zum ersten Mal spürte, was Liebe ist. Denn genauso war es. Ein unglaubliches Gefühl der Wärme lies sie erzittern und ihre Hände legten sich wie als wären sie dafür gemacht, um Damon's Hals. Ihren Lippen entwich ein Stöhnen, bevor es von seinen Lippen erstickt wurde. Das eigene Blut zu schmecken war nicht halb so gut wie das Damon's, hatte aber seinen Reiz. Katherine schlang ihre Beine um seinen Unterkörper, ergriff seine Arme und drehte Damon um 180° herum. Ein Lachen entfuhr ihm, Gott wie sie dieses Lachen vermisst hatte! Sie fauchte, bevor ihre Lippen wieder auf seine trafen. Er war ihre Luft, ihr Blut - der Inhalt ihrer Existenz. Langsam, bewegte sie ihr Becken im Einklang mit seinem, wärend er tiefer in sie hineinstieß. Sie fuhr mit ihren Lippen über seine Wange, schnurrte wie eine Katze, bis hin zu seinem Hals. Die Einstichstelle ihrer Fangzähne war vollends verheilt. Nichts war mehr übrig. Schade? Vielleicht. Denn eine Narbe würde sie sowie ihn immer an diese wunderbare Zeit erinnern.
- Auszug aus katerina nevena + damon christopher.

Sonntag, 10. April 2011

#09

 
scheiß auf mich? scheiß auf dich!
ich scheiß auf dich und die ganze stadt und auf alle die da wohnen!
scheiß auf die schnorrer, die dein geld haben wollen und dich hinter deinem rücken auslachen!

#08

longer story, something else. 
if you're thinking about suicide, can you imagine what your family would feel?
can you imagine what your mother would feel, finding you dead?
here's a story about a mother, whose daughter has killed herself.
before you try to, think about your family.

I could not stop screaming. It was the most horrible thing I have ever seen in my life: 
my precious Melissa, lying on her bed in a pool of blood.
I had been out shopping, and when I came home I called out to Melissa, but she didn’t respond;
so I went up to her room and found her.
She had just died by suicide.
I eventually ran downstairs and called 911, but I could barely talk.
I was hysterical. I remember the dispatcher saying over and over, “Calm down, calm down.”
But how in the hell could I calm down when my baby just killed herself?
Somehow I told them what happened, slammed down the phone, and ran back up to be with my baby.
I then thought that maybe, just maybe, Melissa might still be alive.
So I started to give her CPR. I was shaking and crying, and I kept telling her to wake up.
But I quickly realized that there was no hope – she was dead.
She was just a teenager.
And I knew that I couldn’t let her leave this world without me. She needed me.
So I decided to kill myself before the cops arrived. Then I could be with Melissa.
I stared at the handgun. And I just kept staring at it. My mind raced.
I looked at my beautiful baby and then looked at the gun. But for some reason I just couldn’t kill myself.
I felt like such a coward to not be able to pick up the gun and end my life.
So I ran downstairs and started pacing the floor, crying hysterically.
It wasn’t long before the police showed up, and then an ambulance.
Then I realized I missed my opportunity. I could have been with Melissa.
They could have removed BOTH of our bodies together. They could have had our funeral together.
They could have buried us side by side.
So why in the hell didn't I kill myself when I had the chance? I'll tell you why, because I am a weak person.
I had nothing to live for.
Nothing.
So I should have killed myself.
And I should have been able to prevent Melissa’s suicide.
I knew she was having problems, but dumbshit me was too preoccupied with my own little meaningless life.
The suicide was my fault.
What a stupid moron I was. Why in the hell didn’t I put the pieces together?
I will never forgive myself.
I didn’t get Melissa the help that she needed and now she is dead. I hate myself. I deserve to be dead.
That day was just the beginning of my hell. I was a crazy person. I mean really crazy.
My brain didn’t function; my emotions were destroyed; and even my body felt weird.
In short, I was a total zombie. I was numb, and I barely felt alive.
So, the rest of that horrible day was completely fucked up.
I had to deal with the cops, the hospital, and then call people to tell them about the suicide.
I mean, this was worse than a nightmare.
I just wanted to die.
Shelly, my best friend, made me stay with her for a while;
and I can guarantee you that I would have killed myself that first night if it weren’t for her.
Somehow, I just opened up to her. And all of this shit started pouring out.
I not only talked and talked about Melissa, but I babbled endlessly about all of the problems in my life.
It’s like my mind and my mouth were completely out of control.
I just kept talking, and crying. But I felt horrible.
I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t sleep. But somehow I managed to drink some water.
I felt so wired.
And I wasn’t ready for what was coming next: Melissa’s funeral.
I couldn’t handle that either.
This was just too much for me.
I just kept thinking about ways that I could kill myself. I thought about overdosing, jumping off a bridge, or shooting myself in the head.
There was NO doubt in my mind that I was going to kill myself. It was a done deal.
First, I needed to be with Melissa.
Second, I needed to end my shitty life, because I hated it.
And third, I needed to punish myself for causing Melissa’s suicide.
I decided to wait a while before I actually killed myself, because people were coming in for the funeral, and I just couldn’t do it then;
but I was determined; my mind was made up
. I was going to die by suicide, and this fucking life would be done for good!
The days went by like a blur. I was so out of it at Melissa’s funeral that I could barely function.
Now I was having difficulty talking. Just a few days ago I couldn’t shut up, and now I couldn’t talk.
I was convinced that I was going crazy, which made it even more clear to me that I had to kill myself.
And I was feeling guilt that was so overwhelming that I just could not cope with it.
The guilt cut into me like a knife. I could FEEL the pain from the guilt. It was actually a physical pain.
My chest and abdomen hurt. My back ached. And I knew, without a doubt, that it was the guilt.
It was eating me alive.
And I deserved that pain, and much, much more. What a horrible mother I was. I let my baby die.
The suicide was my fault. I am a failure, both as a mother, and as a human being.
It would be such a relief to be dead. I knew I needed to kill myself. I did not deserve to live.
And I started to have nightmares. I started to relive Melissa’s suicide. I couldn’t get the image of her dead body out of my mind.
It haunted me.
Sometimes my heart would race when those horrible images came to mind. My heart would pound like it was going to break through my chest.
And I would shake and sweat. Just like I did on that horrible day.
I hated these “episodes,” or whatever the hell they were.
It was one more reason that I needed to kill myself. Life was now being very cruel to me.
Replaying this horrible event over and over. The image trapped me. It was killing me.
I had to kill myself.
I reluctantly got into therapy. I always thought that going to a shrink was for people who were weak; but I was convinced to go.
I didn’t like my therapist. He was a prick.
But my head was so messed up that I just kept going back to him. Three miserable times a week.
Shit, the wrong therapist can screw your head up more than just about anything.
So the “therapy” was making me WORSE.
I know I should have left right away. But I was too much of a zombie back then. And my self-image was just too low to act.
After all, I did hate myself.
I became my own worst enemy.
So I went to see Mr. Shrink, and I talked and he listened. It was like I was talking to a fucking wall. He didn’t help me at all.
He didn’t diagnose me with anything. Didn’t give me any medication. The fucker barely even talked.
I just sat there and blabbed to this dumbshit, and he didn’t even pay attention to me.
He did take my money, though.
But I had a plan. In due time, I was going to overdose on a nice combination of medications that I had assembled.
But I had to get my shit in order first. I had to write a fucking will and finish some last minute bullcrap.
But it gave me quite a bit of relief to know that I would be dead soon.
I was so tired of telling people about Melissa’s suicide.
I hated my job.
I hated myself.
I hated life.
And I missed Melissa.
Why the fuck should I keep living?
After a few more months of the same old bullshit, I set the date for my suicide.
It was going to be on a Friday night. So when that wonderful Friday came along, I went out to dinner by myself to celebrate.
I actually enjoyed the dinner ONLY because I knew I would be dead soon. The food tasted good. I felt content. I wanted to die.
I then came home and took a bath. I was more relaxed and more at ease than I had been in years.
I turned on my favorite music and got into bed.
Staring me in the face were the bottles of medication that I was going to take. I put a few tablets from each of the bottles in my hand, swallowed them with water, and prepared to die.
I did not hesitate.
I fell asleep rather quickly afterwards, but a few hours later I woke up with terrible stomach cramps and I vomited.
I started crying and thinking about Melissa.
I couldn’t believe what I just did. I tried to kill myself.
But now I didn’t know if I was going to survive or not. I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I wanted to live. At least for a while longer.
And then I did something I hadn’t done in ages. I prayed.
I was an atheist. But I just started praying.
And then I started to talk with Melissa. Just like she was in the room with me. And then I got up and walked to her room, and I opened the door.
I had not been in her room since the suicide.
I walked over to her bed and touched the pillow.
I picked up a picture of the two of us and embraced it.
I then went to her closet and put on one of her favorite shirts.
And then I just started touching everything in the room. I opened drawer after drawer and touched her belongings. And I kept talking to her.
A few hours passed by and I was struggling to stay awake. So I laid down on Melissa’s bed and fell asleep.
When I woke up, I knew I had hit bottom and was on the way up.
The “suicide attempt,” or whatever the hell it was, made me hit the lowest point of my life.
Shit, that was stupid. I almost killed myself.
No more.
I pledged then and there to NEVER kill myself. And I wouldn’t do so because Melissa wouldn’t want me to.
I got rid of my asshole shrink a few days later and found a woman therapist who was extremely cool. I also started to see a psychiatrist.
It didn’t take them very long to figure out that I was suffering from severe clinical depression and PTSD.
So they gave me some meds, and holy shit that changed my life. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I was transformed by the suicide attempt, but that wasn’t the case.
That just woke me up a bit, the medications are what transformed me. I was mentally ill and didn’t realize it.
I actually started to feel happy.
I also started to socialize again.
I remember the first time I went to a night club with Shelly and we did some dancing. I felt like a new me. I had so much fun.
And Melissa was with me. My baby Melissa was with me. She was dancing with me. My angel was with me. We danced together.
I could feel her by my side.
I kept telling Shelly that Melissa was there dancing with us and Shelly kept saying to me, “Yes, I know.”
It was wonderful.
I know that I am worth something now.
I am a special person.
God made me a special person.
And I may never understand why God called Melissa home, but that is okay. Melissa is an angel in Heaven. God needed her there.
Shelly and I went through a commitment ceremony together and we are going to be partners for life. I love her very much.
And Shelly and I are thinking of having a child someday. I don’t know when, but one day. And we both have agreed that we want a baby girl.
And we are going to name her…
Melissa.
Life is worth living.
I am glad to be alive.

#07

Death is something that unifies us all, We all have to die. Doesn't matter which region, ethnicity, religion, country we belong to, death is waiting for all of us. We all know that, All of us see funerals and see our loved ones die and leave us, but most people don't give a serious thought to death.

Somewhere i just feel that it won't come to take me but i know it i will.


I just wish that some day i will be ready to acknowledge this fact. I just read a newspaper column about a writers last column that he wrote before his death, where he tells his readers that it is his last column and soon he will pass away. I just wish that when my time comes i would be ready like he was. Ready to leave this world firmly with the knowledge that i've spent the time given to me justly. 
 

#06

For only a thirteen-year-old, Anna had blossomed into a beautiful, young woman with long, red hair; big, firm breasts; and long, sexy legs. Whenever we went out, I could see guys twice and three times her age unable to take their eyes off of her, and I couldn’t blame them because I was usually doing the same thing. I wanted Anna’s cherry so bad, that I would have killed for it, but the fear of prison and losing Anna forever kept me from trying anything. So I found myself content with fantasies and occasional hugging and kissing. 
At first I stayed in the back just watching Anna soap up her sexy, young body, but then after a while, Anna moved her attention to me as she soaped up my body. We rubbed and fondled each other for a while with the hot water running over our heads. After we rinsed all the soap off of our bodies, Anna whispered, “Come on Daddy, I may look clean, but I’m still dirty.” We embraced, and I kissed her lips and ran my hand through her sexy, wet, red hair. When we could take it no longer, Anna faced the bathroom wall, put her hands on the wall, and spread her legs as if she was going to be frisked. I moved in behind her and pulled her butt up a little so I could stuff her virgin cunt with my cock. 

Samstag, 9. April 2011

#05

voodoo girl


her skin is with cloth,
and she's all sewn apart
and she has many colored pins
sticking out of her heart.

she has a beautiful set
of hypno-disk eyes,
the once that she is using
to hypnotize guys.

she has many different zombies
who are deeply in her trance.
she even has a zombie
who was originally from france.

but she knew she has a curse on her,
a curse she cannot win.
for if someone gets
too close to her,
the pins stick farther in.


#04




 

no words to explain!

#03

I'm in love with a zombie
Can't keep it's hands off me
I think he's looking at me
But he's looking right through me

You think you're so cool boy
Blood rushing through my veins now
Do you want me for my body
Do you want me for my brain


Cold, cold, freezing, freezing
Got my heart beating, beating
Cold, cold, freezing, freezing
Got my heart beating, beating

I'm in love with a zombie
When he put his hands on me
Saying truth to my body
But when he don't call me

And I know that he like me
'Cause he chasing me nightly
And I want him to bite me
'Cause i know I'm gonna like it.
Baby all I want is an answer
When I walk past ya
Why you gonna act like I trespass
Every boy wanna know, irresistible, kissable
But you think I'm the invisible girl

Keep it down low
We be creeping, freaking
Got me feeling so ill
Trying to keep cool, heart beating
You're heart's freezing
But I still want ya

#02

When you wake up, there is you
just you and your bed, nothing else
and sometimes you think about, what could happen if...
there was another one, next to your bed.
you would grab your arms around him 
and touch him, where he wants you to touch.
it would make you so happy, cause sex always does that.
makes people feel happy and not alone.


bad thing: you never are with somebody else
so you'll always stay alone and ask yourself why.
why does it hurt so much, seeing other people love each other?
why doesn't i have a man, that makes me happy?

easy answer: you'll never find one if you sit there, complaining about being alone and do nothing against it! 
just go out, have fun, live your life and enjoy the body that god gave you!

Freitag, 8. April 2011

#01

I was born of the womb of a poisonous spell
Beaten and broken and chased from the lair
But I rise up above it, high up above it and see
I was hung from the tree made of tongues of the weak
The branches were bones of liars and thieves
Rise up above it, high up above and see

Pray to your god, open your heart
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark
Cover your eyes, the devil inside
One night of the hunter
One day I will get revenge
One night to remember
One day it'll all just end, oh


Un, Doix, Trois, Cinq
Blessed by a bitch from a bastard's seed
Pleasure to meet you but prepare better to bleed
Rise, I'll I will rise, I'll I will rise
Skinned her alive, ripped her apart
Scattered her ashes, buried her heart
Rise up above it, high up above it and see


Pray to your god, open your heart
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark
Cover your eyes, the devil's inside
One night of the hunter
One day I will get revenge
One night to remember
One day it'll all just end, oh
Honest to God I'll break your heart
Tear you to pieces and rip you apart
One night of the hunter
One day I will get revenge
One night to remember
One day it'll all just end, oh