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Their Skin Suits Me

Paganizer

Nocturnal hunter, a sickened man
Out for the reaping of flesh
An urge inside, a sickened need
Drives this human shell

I strip them from skin
In my carnal kingdom
I clad myself in them
Their skin suits me, so well

To transform, into a butterfly
To leave this world so wrong
I do these, awful things
To ensure the transformation

Burning inside
From a twisted need
Unhuman things I do

Burning inside
From all twisted deeds
From these horrors alive