Nature Of The Beast

A withered hand reaches from the black pit to your neck
A silhouette stalking from the corner to your bed
You start to beg, but nothing ever changes, all the same
The touch of bliss, the finger of morphine to your veins
It's getting late, you start to see
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
It's on my tongue, I know you taste
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
It's getting late, you start to see
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
It's on my tongue, I know you taste
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
A withered hand reaches from the black pit to your neck
A silhouette stalking from the corner to your bed
You start to beg, but nothing ever changes, all the same
The touch of bliss, the finger of morphine to your veins
It's getting late, you start to see
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
It's on my tongue, I know you taste
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
It's getting late, you start to see
The nature of the devil talking out of my face
It's on my tongue, I know you taste
The nature of the devil talking out of my face