Bog of the infidel

Rivers to rofocale

Bog of the infidel
When you have given the Devil as much blood as I have
He acquires a taste
Like a drunkard seeking one last drink,
He shalt bleed me dry
When the skin won't hold, let loose the fade
Rivers to please Rofocale
Each breath ends in a sigh
Fascinated by my own reflection in the liquid of my glass
I will know the answer to each question asked
Satan asks for one last sip
And I cannot refuse
To see an old friend smile
Myself I will abuse
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