Cut

A bloodline will come to an end
Your seed is dead don't observe the stars
Just cut your hands off and cut your legs off
'cause your stars have failed
Or they have gone to hide
A slow and painful suicid
Yeah cut those threads Atropos
Mother of blades and ropes
A lonely dance a midnight ride
As the skin of your naked soul
Touches the cold stone of reality
It's autoerotic
Pieces of flesh and petals of soul
In a cursed furnace of oblivion
An endless cold and black love
In the beautiful minutes of nothingness
A self devouring nonexistence
A chosen hell