Truth and Agony Cradle of Filth

Mother's milk has soured
My life's a bolted door
And from it runs a trail of vagrant gore
My wounds are open flowers
Fragrant gifts for my encore
Bouquets of praise for bleeding, towered
On the sacrificial floor

I summoned and you came
To the peel of twisted bells
To the gelid whisper of my name

I blanched, erotic danger
Had me whirling like a star
To the dark advance of strangers

And then I heard you laugh
A throat of broken glass
Leather stitched to weeping skin
A coat of death and suppuration

Be my truth and agony

An architect for my total destruction
My erector, my dissector
My flesh will be wet for your best seduction