Orijinal sözler
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At seventeen I heard my calling
to suffocate with my embrace
murder ten to save a hundred
drown the whole world in my faith
from a long line I descended
Immaculate, an empty womb
and the spur is desperation
maybe God is desperate too
In watermarks and lonely places
a private measurement of time
In made-up names and blacked-out faces
I will trace my blood line
