Death In June - Lord Winter Lyrics
Like Luther's armyAnd Abel's brotherI woke to findOnly to smotherAnd angel fat atSatan's feastWhere falsehood, childhoodAnd loneliness ceasedDelicate like griefI am rapist, well-healedDouble the echo of silenceLike a dusty dead roseContaminate with neglectEvery little heartShould end up brokenAnd shrouded by fogAsleep inThe stumble of autumnThe pain was calvaryOur living onEmpty!The dead of it -The dread of it!