Salome'

Don't look at her
You look at her too much
Something wicked must come
From these gleaming stares of lust
She looks like the moon
A pale reflection upon the skin
The smell of death is looming in
Rising from the tomb of
Blasphemy
Dance for me
Salomé
Ask what you may
Quench my thirst
Feed my eyes
I long to see
I long to
Rise
Little white doves
Slinking through the blood
Fill my cup with wine
From the head that will
Untwine

Would I, cry I
When you believe in something against the mind
What will be mine and in time
Cry I
In the end his head will be mine

After me shall come, another mightier than I
Stay away daughter of Sodom
Little white doves
Slinking through the blood
Fill my cup with wine
From the head that will
Be mine



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