your lips taste like blood, like a cross defiled. Got my hands round your throat while you wore a smile. I'd burn every church just to hear you moan, tie your wrists with their rosaries, make you a tone.
The world begged me to save it, but I chose you instead, drag my crown through the ashes while the whole sky bled.
If they send down the angels I'll rip off their wings, make a bed from their halos hear the devil sing!