Valentine (Lunaticus)
Michael Cross   Western Finland, Finland
 
 
Look at me, I'll create you a dream
Reality escapes or so it may seem
But truth is only what you believe
I'll give you faith without deceit

I'll make you forget
Your despisal and hatred
I'll give you my love
You'll keep it sacred
You must believe
My heart is made of gold
So will be yours
When the soul within is sold

Purple echoes, screaming height
Fossilized thoughts, second sight
Follow me into madness

Beyond the gates we will need no sun
My work of salvation burns to be done
We'll share the power
I draw from my master
Coldness of stars
Spreading faster and faster

Unliving shadows, breaking free
Those born blind can be made to see
Follow me into madness

Come my child, there is beauty to be found
In the timeless crypts
There is no sky no ground
In my mind the road is straight and clear
Oh how wonderful is the feeling of fear

Open my veins to satisfy your thirst
Have my flesh, pure but accursed
Dying can be greatest ecstasy
Burning passion for lengthened agony
Follow me into madness

Follow me into madness...
Currently Offline
From the Shadows
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XPzzrAlJSI

Prayer ain't no key.
Words aligned to make a puzzle of mind.
Never meant to make you free.

Prayer, insanity.
You compete for the never complete.
And it just won't make you see.

Pick your god from the lot, choose your stimulations.
More down there where they came from,
drunken revelations.

From the shadows of time,
the dead are singing their lies.
Their dirt is in your eyes,
no one who believes dies.
From the shadows of stones,
laughter of their rattling bones.
Their dirt will cover your eyes,
no one who believes dies.

Prayer, masked devilry.
Under the yoke of a cosmic joke.
And you just can't let it be.

Pick your god from the lot, choose your stimulations.
More down there where they came from,
drunken revelations.

From the shadows of time,
the dead are singing their lies.
Their dirt is in your eyes,
no one who believes dies.
From the shadows of stones,
laughter of their rattling bones.
Their dirt will cover your eyes,
no one who believes dies.
Favorite Game