Landmine Marathon - Cloaked In Red free for downloading

Lyrics

fear is not a part of her
day and night it salivates at heel wits far gone
No tears no noise, she begins back and forth
Not rotting companions we cry for in our sleep, needles drag across his skin in the night
her nimble fingers skin a cat alive
shuddering at the sight but with no remorse
shame for what s to come
Shadows become eyes, she rips and tears precious meat the body squeals

It is still inside and the curtains are all drawn, fear is not a part of her
fear is not a part of her
what life is this what sight is this
Cloaked in red to hide there will be no dawn, minutes never rest hours turn to weeks Marathon, this fair child shadowed by a rabid dog
Not rotting companions we cry for in our sleep, needles drag across his skin in the night
Fear is not a part of her, she rips and tears precious meat the body squeals Landmine, needles drag across his skin in the night
grandmother of old tells us keep cupboards closed
Cloaked in red to hide there will be no dawn, filling pantries with worship and divine, no tears no noise

the dull blade takes hours to reach bone
Shadows become eyes, filling pantries with worship and divine Landmine, this is the offering
minutes never rest hours turn to weeks
Shadows become eyes, resting an arm on a foul wood plank
The dull blade takes hours to reach bone, still twitching
This is the offering, not rotting companions we cry for in our sleep Red, twenty hands long and mouth open wide
Her nimble fingers skin a cat alive, it is still inside and the curtains are all drawn Marathon, shadows become eyes
fear is not a part of her

Shuddering at the sight but with no remorse, needles drag across his skin in the night, still twitching
No tears no noise, minutes never rest hours turn to weeks, she rips and tears precious meat the body squeals
Twenty hands long and mouth open wide, resting an arm on a foul wood plank
What life is this what sight is this, no tears no noise, she rips and tears precious meat the body squeals
Filling pantries with worship and divine, shame for what s to come, no tears no noise
Her nimble fingers skin a cat alive, day and night it salivates at heel wits far gone
What life is this what sight is this, it is still inside and the curtains are all drawn