This masochism is alive,
My desire for skin is unnerving.
Flesh to flesh, the taste of death,
Temptations rise.
Now if she could only speak,
We could set this everlasting,
This girl in a box, leaves me wanting more.
Flesh to flesh, taste of death.
This will be our little sweet six, six, six.
In our own
Be still my love for we cannot be seen.
In our own
This will be our six, six, six.
Be still my love, for we cannot be seen,
Or they will surely take you away from me.
Be still my love, for we cannot be seen,
Or they will surely take you away from me.
This will be our little sweet six, six, six.
On our own
Be still my love for we cannot be seen.
On our own
I slide inside the hell within,
For there is nothing like her rotting skin.
Oh.
I bet that I've f*cked more dead girls than you.
More dead girls than you.
I bet that I've f*cked more dead girls,
More dead girls than you.
Oh, this masochism is alive, (Alive)
And my desire for skin is here.
I will turn you, turn you inside out,
The smell of romance is in the air.