Each time I make my mother cry and angel dies and falls from Heaven
When the boy is still a worm it's hard to learn the number seven
But when they get to you
It's the first thing that they do
Each time I look outside my mother dies,
I feel my back is changing shape
When the worm consumes the boy it's never considered rape
When they get to you
Prick you finger it is done...
The moon has now eclipsed the sun...
The angel has spread his wings...