Teksty: Calabrese. 13 Halloweens. Backseat Of My Hearse.

Leather pressed i envy how you scream
into your hands claw me
hypnotic hybrid dreams
the howls, they're only gonna be sung

night seeps into light
i am not allowed to bite
i can only wish for it
i can only wait for the moment of...

in the backseat of my hearse
we quit out talking
the moon reveals it curse

like a horror movie on a friday night
you are not happy with your life
why do you act like everybody
music in my blood its a sinister beat
demonic deeds and graveyard treats
see u from the stage and we must know
can we drink your blood after the show