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Akercocke
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Son Of The Morning
Lyricist：Martin Bonsoir, David Gray, Jason Mendonca, Peter Scanlan, Peter Theobalds
The things that I have done, unforgivable
The prayers of a thousand priests
Could not save my soul like the son of the morning
Boasting a multitude of sins
Struck down from the mountain of God
Whispering to me through cracks in the wall
Cracks in my sanity
You only know that which I choose to show
I stand at the edge of the precipice
Wondering whether to step
There is no path of righteousness
There is only Satan
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Strange angel, why do you come here?
How art thou fallen from heaven
To the uttermost parts of the pit
The cherubim and seraphic of Lucifer
Indulge in rites of profanity
Sink to the depths of depravity
Defilement and penetration
In the sanctum of the monarch
Saliva on soft thighs outstretched wings
Semen across lips, hooves steeped in blood
Insatiable, incorrigible
The adversary father of death craves adoration
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