In the heart of the coldest summer
Two desperate souls fused
Deep down in the trenches
The dark lord smiled bemused
You see, it was his offspring
That the woman’s womb bruised
The demons seed poisoned within
Smoking cigarettes, drinking booze

Damien, Damien, product of our love

When the seed was born, all the willows wept
The Smiths and The Cure, made sure that it slept
All he wore was black
All he knew was rage
His very own parents
He kept locked up in a cage

Damien, Damien, product of our love

1 reactie

  1. joris

    Nu ik hier een keer goed naar kijk besef ik hoe fucked up dit is. Death metal is er niks bij