- cifra
We love your virgin blood
Death is our drug
Shadows, we hunt the streets
High on your screams
Cause she loves
Necromania, death her pleasure
Cause she loves
Necromania, black whips of leather
Funeral shadows, dark hooded figures
We rise from the tomb
Your flesh is our doom
Screaming, chained in our crypt
Too late, you can’t resist
At last, so sweet, so dead
We drink your final breath
Torture, bloodlust and pain
We need to kill again
Pleasures of darkness
You’ll soon be screaming
Funeral shadows
At night a creeping
