Grinding, let the fire burn low As the pulse comes flickering back We are bound by belief in all that dies & I will the skin To dissolve I worship the drug-flesh & Let the corpse go Make it rain forever Make it black & Make me whole... Let the cipher call the priest You can be my gallows pole This desolation in the vein Poisonous & vile Tearing out the centre of the cancerous heart & I am defined by the sickness Oh the irony defies belief Another metaphor to signify decay & Yet it shines Let the cipher call the priest You can be my gallows pole Let the vultures be released You can be my gallows pole You are the priestess You are the whore You are deified/vilified You're all that i know You are the priestess You are the whore You are my world Sacrosanct You. Said. Destroy.