°Ë»ö ¹æ¹ý   
Á¦¸ñ: Bela
°¡¼ö: Saint Vitus


Do you know me
I think you do
I rise each night
From my tomb
My bone-dry lips
Long for you
I feed on humans
Freshly brewed

My mortuary
Is a gruesome sight
As I play with you
In the dead of night
I'm never caught
And I'm never seen
As I crease the sky
With the blackest wings

The crack of dawn
Sends a chill through me
I know that I must end my feast
Into the dust I must go
Until the next moonbeam glows

-----------------
Bela
Saint Vitus



°¡¼ö
Á¦¸ñ
Á¤È®ÇÑ °¡¼ö,Á¦¸ñÀÌ ÇÊ¿äÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù.

Àα⠰¡»ç TOP 100  ¿¬µµº° Àα⠰¡»ç  ¶óµð¿À ¹æ¼Û µè±â
Copyright ¨Ï ÁÁÀº °¡»ç °Ë»ö, 2024 (°¡¿ä,ÆË¼Û °¡»ç°Ë»ö)