Room for the Wolves

She's a butcher in the dress of hooks
Who waits for me in a room for the wolves
She prepares the feast of my wishes
The jaws are grinding, jaws are grinding the dishes

Hospitable traps, implanted baits
The leeches are ready for their crusades
Holy murder and holy mud
Morse code tattoos on the veins full of rot

Weak flesh in a shrine of shame
Held down by bittersweet ball and chain
Untouchable for any offense
Isolated in its innocence

The purest filth, please, clean my soul
Please, set me free and I will be your doll
Room for the wolves, please, let me in
The human nature is my only sin

Room for the wolves
Room of my wishes
Room for the wolves
Room of my wishes



Credits
Writer(s): Nikita Tataryntsau, Roman Zherebtsov
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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